


Chocolate

by ProstheticLoVe



Series: Chocolate and Cigarettes [2]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: 1X05 to 1X09, Booty Calls, Canon-Compliant, Consensual Underage Sex, Falling In Love, Homophobic Slurs, Ian Gallagher Loves Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher has a crush on Mickey, Ian and Mickey are in love but don't realize it, Ian really likes Mickey but doesn’t realize it, M/M, POV Ian Gallagher, Season 1, Swearing, Teen Ian Gallagher, Teen Ian Gallagher/Teen Mickey Milkovich, Teen Mickey Milkovich, Teen Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-07
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:28:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 30,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27426463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProstheticLoVe/pseuds/ProstheticLoVe
Summary: "Mickey's like a Snickers bar. That probably sounds stupid, but he has layers. He seems so tough on the outside, but I don’t - I think there’s more underneath. You think you know what you’re getting, but there’s - there’s more to be discovered."Ian falls for Mickey Milkovich between booty calls and Monica coming back. Set 1X05 to 1X09. All Ian's POV.
Relationships: Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Series: Chocolate and Cigarettes [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1954726
Comments: 73
Kudos: 115





	1. Snow

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: No one belongs to me! If they did, we’d have a whole show of Gallavich scenes.
> 
> Um...I wanted to get this up earlier, but I've been pretty much constantly refreshing the news to the point where I wasted about three days of my life obsessing. Spoiler: I have not gotten anything done. I'm still obsessing, but I'm feeling more hopeful (which means I basically burst into tears every few hours). Anyway, I figured this would be a good distraction. It's up a bit later than I had planned, but here we are. I hope everyone else is doing well with the state of the world. 
> 
> Anyway, on to fanfiction. Thanks for everyone who checked out Part One. This is Part Two, it can be read as separately or together. If you decide to read both of them then the first chapter is set before Ian and Mickey hook up, so before chapter 5 in Part One, but everything else will take place after 1x07. It should be pretty self explanatory, but if not, let me know. This will be all Ian's POV during 1X05 to 1X09. At least that's the outline/plan for now, but we'll see where the story takes us.
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy! Please comment and let me know. And stay safe/sane/we got this!

_“Fall in love and you get lost.” ~Unknown_

* * *

“Here,” Mandy Milkovich said, handing Ian Gallagher another fun-size bar of chocolate. She was busy unwrapping her own Mini-Reese’s and popping it into her mouth before Ian had even started on the foil. 

Amused, he looked at her for a moment before starting to unwrap his own piece of candy. His third of the evening.

Ian had never given much thought to the Milkovichs until Mandy dragged him into her life. He knew about them of course, but he tried to stay away. Mostly because as a kid Fiona used to tell him to avoid them because she’d gone to school with the eldest brother and ‘knew what they were about.’ 

But then he grew up and as much as he cherished Fiona, he realized she was only human. He started high school. Mandy developed a crush and Mickey paid Lip to write his papers and somehow Ian ended up hanging out in their living room playing video games and eating leftover Halloween candy on the couch.

Growing up in a house that could barely afford a television, Ian wasn’t very good at video games. But he enjoyed hanging out with Mandy and he definitely enjoyed the tiny bars of chocolate. Despite the fact that they had been sitting around for several months. Sometimes, Mickey would join them and while Ian still didn’t feel 100% comfortable in his presence - Ian couldn’t decide if it was because it was _Mickey Milkovich_ or something else entirely - he wasn’t so bad when he got to know him.

Or at least he didn’t _seem_ so bad.

It was hard to tell with Mickey.

Ian couldn’t read him.

What he liked the most about coming over to the Milkovich household was how he didn’t feel any pressure to be someone he wasn’t. He didn’t have to pretend to be responsible, mature, smart or some hot piece of ass. He didn’t have to pretend to be living a lie or that he was part of a couple who hides. 

He just got to be _Ian Gallagher_. 

The guy ‘dating’ Mandy Milkovich. And yeah they pretended they were a couple, but it wasn’t really bothersome to Ian. They weren’t making out to prove a point and Mandy knew the deal. She knew who he was and she liked him anyway. Besides, if anything, putting his arm around her or having her feet in his lap felt much more like friends rather than anything else.

She was just his friend and he liked having someone besides Lip who knew what was going on with him.

Well, as much as he was willing to divulge about himself at least.

He had friends. Friends from ROTC, school, and when he was on the track team for a short amount of time. But Mandy was different than any of them. She never pressured Ian to talk about himself if he didn’t want to. She got what it was like being the odd person out of the family. She was patient and caring and smarter than most people gave her credit for.

But most importantly, he trusted her with his secret.

He’d never considered hanging out with the Milkoviches before, but hanging out with Mandy clued him into the fact that there was a lot more to them than people knew. 

He’d realized that after a few days had gone by since he revealed he was gay to Mandy and no one had tried to kill him. Instead, she did exactly as he asked - _she stayed quiet_.

And that right there was something he’d forever be grateful for. He wasn’t ashamed of who he was. He was lucky enough to be cared for by his siblings - no matter what - but he didn’t feel like ending up in the hospital because _other_ people didn’t like him for who he was. People like Mandy’s brothers and her father who he’d heard gay bashing on several occasions.

“Hey fags, are you done hogging the television?” Mickey asked, coming into the living room.

Ian looked up from where he’d been struggling to open his mini Reese’s. Mickey was glaring down at them as if they’d personally offended him for daring to play video games when he wanted to watch television.

Ian felt that familiar smallness when Mickey was around and paying him any attention. Like Mickey was bigger than life and Ian was just, well, _Ian Gallagher_. 

Mickey’s blue eyes were trained on Ian and he was getting uncomfortable. He glanced toward Mandy who was scowling at Mickey. 

“Can’t you go do something else? I have company over,” she whined.

Ian turned back to Mickey and watched as he moved to drop down on the couch beside him. Mickey grabbed a handful of the Reese’s on the table and settled back into the cushions. When he leaned back, their shoulders were pressed together to the point where Ian could feel Mickey’s body heat. His heartbeat began to speed up as he became hyper aware of where Mickey was wedged against him.

Mandy called out an offended, ‘hey, that’s ours’ but Mickey ignored her. Ian shifted his body, so that he wasn’t leaning against Mickey and instead sitting up ramrod straight. He nudged Mandy’s feet where they rested in his lap, so she’d drop them to the floor and he found himself squeezed in between two Milkovichs. He tapped his finger against his knee and tried to force himself to relax as Mickey shifted beside him.

“You’re not even playing anymore,” Mickey exclaimed, popping an unwrapped chocolate into his mouth. 

Ian remembered that he had his own chocolate he was in the middle of eating before Mickey had interrupted them.

“We were just about to start again.”

“It’s fine, Mandy, I have to go home anyway. I’m on babysitting duty,” Ian said grabbing another Reeses as he stood up. He looked down at Mandy and Mickey who were looking up at him with varying expressions of disbelief.

“Babysit?” Mickey asked as if he’d never heard the word before.

“You’re leaving?” Mandy pouted.

Ian smirked and opened his mouth to say something snarky when he saw Mandy shake her head a little at him. He forgot for a moment who he was talking to, so instead, he closed his mouth and gave them a tight-lipped smile.

“See you later,” Ian said, grabbing his backpack and coat. He slid them on and began to head toward the door. Both sets of the Milkovich eyes on him as he left and headed into the snowy darkness of Chicago. 

The truth was he really didn’t need to babysit. He was going over to Kash’s, but he didn’t want to say that in front of Mickey for obvious reasons. And every time he mentioned Kash to Mandy, she got a weird look on her face.

As if she wanted to say something, but was thinking better of it.

(He wished she would voice her opinion, though.)

And maybe another part of him didn’t really want to tell people he was going over to Kash’s, well, to the Kash N Grab to fuck his boss in the back of the store. His visit over to the apartment Kash and Linda lived in was still on his mind. (Probably a lot more than it should be, if he was being honest.)

The whole situation was still sitting heavily in his stomach. A strange heavy twisting had started that night and couldn’t be ebbed away. No matter what he did. He tried to remember the daydreams he had about their future - how they just had to wait a little longer until Ian graduated, saved money, got into West Point… But those daydreams slipped away leaving him feeling - well, _not optimistic_. He’d tried to push it away, bury it deep within his mind, but it was like an apple bobbing in the water. 

It lingered.

And no matter how many times he looked at Kash or tried to initiate intimacy, he still felt that claustrophobic feeling he had while in the apartment. He tried to pretend it wasn’t there, but he still saw those weird pictures on the wall, smelled that goat scent, and could plainly see Linda freaking out once she found out.

He never disliked Linda. He’d never really seen her as a person at all. She was there, but Ian never really _saw_ her. Never saw her feelings, thoughts, the struggles she went through everyday. She was just Kash’s wife. His boss. The woman who yelled a lot about shit going missing because she, like the rest of them, was just trying to make a living in Chicago. Sometimes, he even respected her on some level. But he never really considered how she’d feel when she found out that Kash was gay. 

Maybe that was his own problem too. He was too caught up in feeling badly for Kash for living a lie - and promising himself he’d never live a lie as a straight man. (He knew who he was and he didn’t have any shame about it.) He’d never really considered how Linda would feel when she - well, when Kash left--

But would Kash actually leave her?

Ian didn’t know.

It made him feel sad for her, though, knowing that her husband wasn’t who he said he was.

_Is this what my future will hold? Being kept a secret? Being kept in the dark?_

He’d wished for a future with Kash many times. They’d been fucking steadily for about six months now, since about the time he started at the store. Ian hadn’t thought much about the future. He assumed that when he went away to join the army and got into West Point, Kash would come with him.

Or something.

The thing was as much as he imagined Kash and his future, he never thought _he’d actually come with him_.

They’d never had a conversation about Kash leaving Linda or what would happen to his kids. They’d never talked about what would happen when Ian graduated school. They hadn’t even talked about what would happen if Linda found out.

Ian had just - hoped it would all work out and they could ride off into the sunset.

Together.

But seeing his life.

Smelling that goat smell.

He wasn’t 100% sure what exactly the next steps were. 

It was like the bubble of their future had popped.

This idealistic world he’d created in his head just had a rude awakening and it smelled like goats and weird food.

He’d always thought that he loved Kash. He liked the way he felt when he was with him. Like he was wanted and cherished and cared about. Like he belonged. Like Kash would stick up for him when Linda did find out. Like they had the potential to build a life together. Someone who would never leave him.

That’s what Ian thought that love was. Someone who would always stick by you no matter what. That’s at least the love he’d gotten from growing up as a Gallagher. Monica and Frank had left them - many times - that means they didn’t love him - or at least they loved him in their own weird way. 

Probably. 

Monica more than Frank. 

Fiona stayed, therefore she loved him - loved them. Sticking together was what Gallaghers did and that’s what Ian equated with love. 

And Kash was here.

He wasn’t leaving anytime soon.

_Right?_

He had a family and a life here. He had roots. 

And Ian liked that. 

When he reminded himself of that, Ian could compartmentalize all the other stuff better. It made it easier to finally see what a future with a married man like Kash held. At least it used to be until he realized the reality didn’t match his expectations.

* * *

Mickey started stealing from the Kash N Grab and something inside Ian shifted. Well, he should say that Mickey started stealing _more_ from the Kash N Grab. 

Like every day. 

He wanted to call Mickey out for stealing from right under their noses, but he’s more troubled by what he sees in Kash and his reaction to Mickey.

Which is pretty much nothing.

He pretends it’s not happening and well, Ian doesn’t know how to react to that.

Watching Kash pretend Mickey isn’t stealing, causes Ian to feel uncomfortable. He doesn’t like it. It’s - for lack of a better word - pathetic.

It’s on a Monday when he comes in early to work to find Linda yelling at Kash in the back about them getting robbed blind. She’s going on about having to afford their apartment and how they’re late on their heating bills. And does he want their kids growing up like this? 

The argument sits with Ian as he stocks the vegetables and other canned goods on the shelves. It sits with him when he goes home that night and he eats dinner with his family as they all excitedly talk over one another about how they helped Frank with some scheme. 

It’s maybe what makes him finally call Mickey out for his behavior and how he ends up with a knee in his stomach and a Snickers bar in his hoodie pocket.

But the weirdest part about all of it.

The thing that sits with him the most while he tries to make sense of it all and untangle his feelings about Kash is that when Mickey touches him - even in the most violent sense - he feels more than when Kash caresses, kisses, or even fucks him.

It’s a weird realization he has; one that he decides not to focus on too much.

It’s already complicating an already fucking complex situation.

It’s just easier to store it away.

At least until it’s in the middle of the night and he’s too tired to stop his mind from wandering to Mickey’s blue eyes and perpetual scowl.

* * *

A few days after Ian confronted Mickey about stealing he’s walking home with Mandy from school. They haven’t hung out in a few days and she was a little pissy about it. The way she continuously mentions it to him is what clued him in. 

“Have you been fucking Kash? Is that why you’re so busy?” Mandy demanded to know.

Ian smiled slightly at her tone. For someone who he wasn’t actually dating, Mandy could be pretty invasive when she wanted to be. 

Lip says its cause she still has a crush on him.

Ian thinks its cause she’s not used to having friends like him.

He can relate and honestly, he doesn’t really mind. She wouldn’t be Mandy Milkovich if she wasn’t at least a little bit pushy.

“No, well, I mean I’ve been working more. It’s the end of the month and we’re late on a few bills. We need the money,” Ian said with a little shrug.

Mandy softened and nodded, “I guess I can’t hold that against you.”

Ian laughed and carefully walked over some ice on the sidewalk. 

“So how are you and Kash doing?” she edged.

He paused as he considered telling her everything was fine. The answer was right on the tip of his tongue and he truly wanted to say it, but when he opened his mouth, the words didn't come to him.

She’s the only one he can really talk about this stuff with. It would almost be _nice_ to open up a little to someone about - about whatever this is that he’s feeling. Maybe Mandy would try to understand and help him deal with it? 

It was worth a shot.

Lip found it kinda weird. At least, that’s the impression Ian had every time he opened his mouth and said ‘Kash.’ 

“Um, I’m not - well, do you ever think about love?”

Mandy’s head whipped around to stare at him with those wide black rimmed eyes. She blinked rapidly as if she couldn’t wrap her mind around the question.

He was already regretting asking it.

“ _Love_?” she rasped out.

He nodded. 

She turned away from him and focused on walking down the icy, snowy sidewalk. A few minutes of silence passed and Ian contemplated changing the subject when she finally spoke up.

“I’m not - when I was little Mickey stole me a Barbie doll from some girl in first grade,” Mandy paused and hoisted her backpack on her shoulder. “I really loved that Barbie. She was _perfect_ , I guess. I mean, I carried her around everywhere and I loved her. But then I think Colin or maybe Iggy was going through a phase where he lit shit on fire.” 

Ian frowned when she stopped talking.

“I don’t - was that an analogy or something?” he asked cluelessly.

She scowled at him and shoved him a little causing him to slip on the slick ground. He grabbed onto her arm to steady himself and she smirked at him. “I’m saying that I never loved anything, you dick. I _loved that Barbie_. She was always with me. When she was burned, I cried. A fucking lot.”

Ian blinked and stared at her in confusion, “why would you tell me that story? Don’t you love your siblings?”

Mandy stopped walking and gave him a look that very clearly said ‘get real, Ian.’ “If Colin or Iggy or whatever pyromaniac in my family had accidentally lit the house on fire, I would’ve saved that Barbie and that’s it.”

She continued walking and Ian frowned as he tried to wrap his head around what she was saying.

“What about Mickey?” he asked, hurrying to fall into step beside her again.

“What about him?”

“Would you save him from a fire?”

She shrugged and began to dig in her jacket pockets for the carton of cigarettes Ian knew that she kept in there. Instead, she produced two pieces of Reese’s and handed him one. He took it and began to munch on it, waiting for her response. He could tell she was taking her time to answer the question because she was fiddling with the wrapper on the piece of candy.

“So would you?” he asked when she didn’t respond.

“Depends, I guess.”

Ian finished off the piece of chocolate and peanut butter and then said, “so your point is that you’ve never loved anyone?”

“Nope.”

“What about--”

“Love isn’t really sustainable Ian. Look at our parents. It’s - it’s there for a little bit and then leaves you feeling, well, like shit. What’s the point?” she snapped.

He frowned, “you’ve had a lot of boyfriends. What about--”

“I’ve had a lot of _fuck buddies_.”

“But your family--”

Mandy laughed sardonically and shook her head, “why are we talking about this? Do you think you’re in love with Kash or something?”

It was Ian’s turn to shrug and Mandy suddenly grinned mischievously at him. “So it is about Kash.”

“It’s - it’s been weird. Since - since I went to his house we haven’t - we haven’t - I mean, it hasn’t been the same since the - since the apartment, I guess.”

Mandy chewed on her bottom lip and then smirked at him, “maybe you just gotta get him in the right mood.”

“It’s not him that’s the issue,” Ian muttered.

“Oh, gotcha.”

They were silent as they came closer to where they generally parted ways. Ian didn’t feel much better than he had before they started the conversation. He regretted bringing up the topic. This was just something he was going to have to deal with alone.

“Maybe you just have to do it and it’ll get better? Like maybe--”

“His wife fixed the cameras in the store.”

Mandy raised her eyebrows as they slowly began to stop walking.

“Well, maybe that’s a sign or whatever? Maybe it’s time to find someone new.”

“But I don’t want anyone new.”

Her eyebrows raised even higher and she gave him a knowing look. “Ian, when you think about your future is he in it? Like, he’s old and married. Where does that leave you?”

Ian pressed his lips together in a tight line as he struggled to come up with a response to that question. It was something he’d been thinking a lot about. But it hadn’t been voiced out loud. The words swirled around his head as he struggled to come up with an answer.

He really had no idea what their future held. He’d had an idea in his mind, but the older he got and now with Linda threatening to put cameras in the store - well, reality was crashing down around him.

The apartment was really the turning point when he thought back to it. The scent of goats and the pictures on the wall. The kids’ toys… It was a sobering reality and he really wasn’t sure where that left him except, well, as a mistress.

“You’re better than a dirty secret, Ian Gallagher,” she said, giving him a small smile before turning to walk toward her house.

Ian watched her go, not sure if he wanted her words to sink in or disappear into the snowy wind. 

* * *

After Ian left Mandy, he headed home to change - and stop to grab some meat for Kash - then hurried to the Kash N Grab. He had the late shift at the store and he knew that Kash had been dealing with a lot from Linda, so he wanted to bring him a little something to cheer him up.

Unfortunately, Ian didn’t think anything would cheer Kash up.

“I’m not sure what I’m going to tell Linda,” Kash said once the influx of customers buying barbecue and hot sauce had subsided.

Ian wasn’t sure what to say. He wanted to tell him that things would get better. That he’d get the gun back from Mickey. That Linda would understand. That they had a future together.

But even in his mind, they sounded like false sentiments. 

It all felt like a lie.

Like what Fiona used to tell him as a kid when Monica and Frank would go on week long binges and leave them alone.

_Everything’s fine, Ian._

“Maybe we don’t have to tell her? At least till we come up with a plan,” Ian suggested grasping at straws.

Kash cast him a look of disbelief. His black eye made him look even more unsettled than he would normally. “A plan? Ian, Mickey took the gun. The only plan I have right now is hoping that Linda won’t find out about it and that maybe he’ll decide to give it back”

“But, I mean maybe I--”

“There’s nothing you can do. It’s probably better if you just - we should just leave it. I’ll figure out how to handle Linda.”

A ball of anger began to grow in Ian’s chest as he heard Kash’s defeatist attitude. He’d never heard someone give up so easily. It was strange. To come from a household that struggled and scratched and clawed their way to keeping the lights on and foods in their belly, it was unnatural to give up. To hear someone just say ‘well, it is what it is’ and accept the way things were going, it wasn’t right in Ian’s mind.

“No. Kash, I can--”

“Ian, really, I’ll figure it out myself. Just - can you go stock the soup cans? We just got a new order of Campbells.”

Ian opened his mouth a few times before he shut it and went to go into the back to grab the box of soup. When he emerged, he saw Kash crunched over the counter with his hands in his hair. Ian frowned at him, considered going over there, but he knew whatever he said wouldn’t make Kash feel better. Instead, he went over to the shelf with the soup and began to stock it.

A few hours went by and they had another influx of customers looking for barbecue sauce and other accoutrements for the stolen meat. It was nearing close when Ian went over to the counter and leaned against the wall next to Kash who was writing in the inventory booklet. He was tapping away on the calculator and was barely paying Ian any attention. It gave him enough time to work up the nerve to ask the question that had been lingering for so long.

“Do you ever think about the future?” Ian asked quietly.

Kash looked over at him with confusion. “The future? Like in 10 years? Or like what am I going to do tomorrow when Linda comes by and realizes the gun’s missing?”

Ian huffed out a low chuckle and shrugged. They’d never had this conversation before and Ian wasn’t sure what to say to really get it going. He wanted to ask him if he ever thought about them or what a future together would look like. He wanted to ask if he ever thought about telling Linda. Or asking if he believed that what they had was real.

Ian had a lot of questions, but he was too nervous to voice them.

The more he thought about it the more he realized he didn’t really know much about Kash in the way of his hopes and dreams. He’d just learned _today_ that he wanted to be a landscaper for fuck’s sake. All he knew about him was his past...but what did he want _now_? Other than the gun back.

What did he want for his future?

Their future?

Once, in the very beginning, he’d asked Kash if he’d ever thought about divorcing Linda and being true to himself. But he’d just shrugged the question off, pretending not to hear it.

Ian never asked again.

“I mean like whatever you mean?”

Kash frowned and looked over at him in confusion. “I don’t have time to think about the future.”

“But what about Linda and the kids? Don’t you think about--”

“Of course I think about the boys’ future.”

“And Linda’s?”

Kash snorted out a laugh, “I think about whether she’s going to kill me or not. I don’t think that’s really about the future though.”

“Are you happy with her?”

Kash finally looked at him directly;, his eyebrows drawing together. He studied Ian for a long moment and then looked back down at the inventory he was filling out.

“I love my kids. What I do - I do for them.”

“But--”

“Can you go check on the Gatorade stock? I think we might need to order more and I’m not sure how much I should get.”

Ian hesitated for a fraction of a second. An urge to ask him more questions caused him to pause. But when Kash continued to keep his head bowed and focused on the booklet, Ian followed his request. It seemed that was all he could do at the moment. Kash didn’t seem to be willing to have this conversation.

But he still had questions.

And no answers.

* * *

The next morning Ian decided to go after Mickey. 

Well, he’d decided yesterday after work, but he really needed that extra boost of confidence to follow through. 

He’d been up most of the night coming to this conclusion and it seemed like the most logical one.

He’d just ask Mickey for the gun back. He’d already confronted him a few times and while he knew that Mickey was violent and tended to act out, Ian knew he was reasonable. He’d seen him _be_ reasonable. He figured he was just bored or something and that’s why he was targeting the Kash N Grab so much lately. If Ian could just intimidate him a bit - confront him - he bet that Mickey would give in.

Maybe.

Possibly.

Hopefully. 

What drove him to the Milkovich residence was a combination of a desire to do something - anything - and to show Kash that he could take care of him. 

He was tired of watching Mickey walk all over everyone and everything. He was tired of being bullied by him. Well, Mickey had never really bullied him apart from the Mandy situation. And he may still hold some type of grudge from a few weeks ago. 

But the point was he was tired of Mickey Milkovich’s bullshit and he was going to take this situation into his own hands.

Mickey might think no one would stand up to him and - yeah, Ian didn’t for the longest time, but _he hit Kash_.

To Ian, that’s inexcusable.

In his head, he saw Kash’s black eye and he kept that at the forefront of his mind as he stalked over to the Milkovich house and pushed past Mandy into Mickey’s room. He wasn’t going to let anyone push Kash around and if he couldn’t get to Linda, he’d at least take care of Mickey. 

Mickey would be easy.

He’d get the gun back and everything would work out.

Linda would never know.

Ian could focus on figuring out his relationship with Kash.

Everything would be fine.

_Right?_


	2. Caged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian's infatuated with Mickey and tries to figure out how he can seduce him again. Set after 1x07.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! We made it another week. I hope everyone is staying safe as we head into more uncertain times. At least we have Gallavich...
> 
> Thanks everyone so much for commenting, reading, kudoing, and bookmarking this little fic! I've enjoyed diving into Ian's head for this section and can't wait to continue exploring his puppy love for Mickey. As a reminder, this chapter is set after 1X07 and picks up right after Mickey's POV in Part 1 Chapter 5. If that's confusing, let me know! I hope you guys like this chapter. It's pretty much full of soft, infatuated Ian. There's not a lot of Mickey interaction, but we'll see more of that in the next few chapters. We just have to get there first. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy please let me know what you think!

Ian’s body was still tingling as he shut the front door of the Milkovich house and walked down the stairs. He was so caught up in calming his still racing heart he nearly slipped on a patch of ice on the sidewalk outside their gate. With images of a naked Mickey Milkovich filling his brain, he wasn’t paying much attention. 

He just  _ fucked Mickey Milkovich. _

It was surreal.

Crazy.

Amazing.

_ What the fuck. _

Ian had slept with exactly two - now three - guys in his life.

Losing his virginity to Donkey Dick had been...an  _ experience _ . It was awkward and uncomfortable and Donkey Dick wasn’t exactly romantic. But Ian knew that first times could be much more - well, they could be worse. 

But it could also be better. 

He remembered when Lip told him about his first time or when Fiona had come home crying after hers. He’d heard her telling Lip about it between gulping down slugs of beer and chain smoking a cigarette. So Ian wasn’t expecting much. 

And then when he started fucking Kash, he figured  _ that’s  _ when he’d find what he was looking for. He’d discover love, trust,  _ passion _ .

Up until the last few hours, he thought he had that with Kash.

But as he walked down the street and toward his house, the edges of doubt began to creep into his head. If he liked Kash so much, then why did he immediately forget about him when Mickey’s eyes flickered with interest?

(If he was honest with himself, he’d been feeling that doubt for a long time.) 

He could still feel Mickey’s pleasurable weight against him as he pounded into him.

He could still smell Mickey’s unique scent. (He had never noticed anyone’s scent until Mickey. It fucking  _ lingered _ .) 

He could make out the scent of sex that hung in their air well after they’d finished. (He didn’t know how Terry Milkovich missed that.) He kept replaying the way Mickey’s breath hitched when he filled him up. (And how blue his eyes got when Ian began to move inside of him.)

It was... _ not _ like fucking Donkey Dick or even Kash.

It was…Ian couldn’t wrap his mind around it.

All he could focus on was how... _ much better it was _ .

It was like discovering his favorite type of ice-cream or figuring out that he wanted to join the army.

It was a revelation.

_ Meant to fucking be. _

Ian wondered if it had something to do with how Mickey could figure out what he wanted before he had even realized it. It was the push and pull  _ during _ sex that Ian hadn’t been expecting. 

Mickey moved with him; he pushed him over the edge in just the right way. The way he touched him like they’d been doing this forever had been… Ian shook his head as he struggled to come up with a word for it. 

Mickey had kept up with him. 

They just worked together.

When he reached for him and brought him closer, that was what caused Ian to reach his climax. 

He loved that. 

Had he always loved that or...or did he just like it when Mickey did it? 

He liked the way that Mickey kneaded his skin beneath those small hands with ‘Fuck U-Up’ across the knuckles. He liked the way he buried his head in Ian’s neck as if he was too shy to let him see his reactions. (The next time he was going to make sure to look at Mickey’s face. He wanted to watch him come undone.) 

He loved the slickness of Mickey’s skin rubbing against his own. The feel of Mickey’s hot body. The light blush that covered him the closer Ian brought him to completion.

He always hated how much Kash sweated; it was gross. Like pouring buckets on him. 

But Mickey - it was -  _ fuck, it was hot _ . The light sheen made his skin shimmer and brought out his natural scent even more.

It made Ian’s toes curl at the thought.

But Ian’s favorite part had been when he grabbed Mickey’s hand.

He had been surprised when he sought out his hand and Mickey had let him hold it. He needed something to ground him. When their fingers laced together as they both came and he let him, Ian had felt something loosen in his chest. Like he was finally letting go of a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Like he finally felt  _ settled _ . He’d finally found something he’d been searching for.

It was only after he’d come and they’d rolled away from each other did Ian realize that this was the most content he’d felt - in - in a long time. A warmth had begun to spread over him - from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. 

It was nice.

It was fantastic.

It was - the whole thing was surreal to him.

He couldn’t wrap his head around it.

He couldn’t believe that he’d just fucked Mickey Milkovich.

Resident South Side thug who Ian had always thought would sooner beat the shit out of him before he even let him touch his hand.

He’d figured that sleeping with Mickey would be pretty perfunctory - not that he’d thought about it, of course. But it was so much different than what he’d thought it would be like.

He’d given a little of himself to Ian. 

Mickey saw something in him that convinced him to open himself up. It was - no one had ever let Ian in. Even though he pulled back afterwards, Ian had already made the decision to seek him out again. 

Mickey was just - he was  _ spectacular _ . 

Ian didn’t think he even realized it.

That’s probably what made it even better. 

The more he thought about it the more he realized that  _ this _ is what people meant when they talked about good sex - _ great sex  _ \- it made the energy in the room crackle to life. 

Maybe it was Mickey himself that made it so good.

Or maybe it was something Ian hadn’t figured out yet.

It could be the way that Mickey tried so hard not to let out any noises and when Ian got him to fall apart, it was like winning the lottery. It could also be the fact that  _ Mickey fucking Milkovich _ , who was a Southside thug through and through, had let his guard down. 

For  _ Ian Gallagher _ .

That was - it was was pretty fucking cool.

Ian sighed dreamily as he replayed the way Mickey’s blue eyes had met his and the way he ordered Ian to get a move on with it. 

Smiling to himself, he saw his house in the distance and for a brief moment he wanted to hurry home and tell one of his siblings what he’d just did. He wanted to tell Lip that he’d just - well, he wasn’t sure what to tell him, but he had the urge to gush about Mickey Milkovich.

He couldn’t contain his grin as he neared his house; his mind drifting back to the way the early morning light made Mickey’s eyes sparkle. Or the little crease between his eyebrows that he got right before he came. 

_ Would he be willing to do it again? _

Ian hoped so.

* * *

Hurrying into the house in search of his family members, Ian knew he couldn’t  _ really  _ tell anyone what had just happened. But he’d like to acknowledge it to some point. At least to prove to himself that he wasn’t delusional or having some sort of hallucination. 

Just to say it outloud might - it might prove that it had happened.

That Mickey had trusted him enough to - for them to  _ fuck like that. _

Last year Mickey had come over because he needed a paper from Lip and Ian had, well, he’d felt something from him then. For awhile, he thought he imagined it, but now... 

He’d brushed it away after Mickey had left, but for the briefest moment, Ian felt like something had shifted between them. But then he started at the Kash N Grab and Kash happened and well, Ian just sort’ve forgot about the moment. 

Until Mickey’s bedroom.

When Ian arrived in the kitchen, he found it empty. But the sounds of the TV drew him into the living room where he found his three younger siblings. Liam was in his playpen and becoming fidgety, but Carl and Debbie weren’t paying much attention. Their eyes were glued to the television.

“You guys here by yourself?” Ian asked, looking between the TV and them.

Carl nodded, “Lip said he’d be right back. Something about Karen.”

Ian tried not to roll his eyes. Instead, he focused on Liam who was starting to whine in the playpen.

“Has Liam had his nap?”

Debbie shook her head without looking away from the TV. Some movie about monsters was on and there was a lot of blood. Ian contemplated telling them to change the channel, but then he reminded himself he wasn’t their parent. 

Sighing, he reached down to pick up Liam, who after sniffing, he realized needed to be changed too. He glanced at his younger siblings in dismay and then gingerly carried Liam up the stairs to change him. Going into the bathroom, he grabbed one of two remaining diapers and got to work. 

Liam was a relatively quiet kid. He only fussed when he was really tired or when his diaper was full. But he hated having his diaper changed, so Ian made funny faces at him and began to baby talk to distract him. He had clasped one side of the diaper when Liam tried to shift onto his belly and crawl away.

“Woaw, Liam, come back here,” Ian said. Hurriedly, he clasped the other side of the diaper and then grabbed Liam under his arms to pick him up. His diaper was a little lopsided, but it would have to do.

“You ready for your nap?” Ian cooed, putting his little pants back on. He hugged the toddler to him and then stood up to head toward Debbie’s room to put him down. Liam gurgled in response and began to twist around.

“Mommy,” he grumbled.

Ian smirked, “yeah, yeah, Fiona will be home soon. Come on, I’ll put you down and then Fiona will be here.”

Liam pouted and Ian made a goofy look in response. 

“I’ll tell you a story,” he said entering Debbie and Liam’s room. He closed the door and moved to put Liam in his crib before he thought better of it. Instead, he sat down on Debbie’s bed and held the toddler close, rocking him a little to get him to calm down.

“Okay, let’s see… Once upon a time there was a family from the South Side,” Ian began not sure where he was going to go with this story. “There were a lot of kids in this family, but they loved each other a lot. The parents left when the kids were little, but the kids did everything they could to take care of each other.” Ian paused and frowned as the words left his mouth. 

This wasn’t a really happy story.

“One of the kids, the middle one, met another kid from a similar family. Except in this family, the parents were mean. The two boys both dreamed of leaving the South Side and starting a life where people didn’t - where they could be free.”

Liam shifted against Ian and looked up at him with those big brown eyes.

“Anyway, the two kids started hanging out. They came up with a plan to get away. Until one day one of the kids was able to finally achieve their dream - they got into West Point.” Ian stopped talking as he imagined himself getting his acceptance letter. 

“But the other kid, the one with the blue eyes, didn’t have a plan for escape. So his... _ friend _ asked him to come with him. And they left together to live happily ever,” Ian finished off a little lamely.

Liam blinked up at him and Ian swore he was giving him a ‘get real’ look.

“Yeah, I know, it’s not my best, but - well, I’m - something happened today,” Ian gushed a little more dreamily than he meant to.

Liam tilted his head up and regarded Ian with a curious look. He smiled down at the toddler and rocked him a little bit before he decided to begin talking.

What was the harm in rhapsodizing to Liam?

Wasn’t like he could talk.

Well, at least.

“I can’t really tell anyone else about this, so I guess...I slept with a guy. Not Kash,” Ian said quietly glancing nervously toward the door.

Liam giggled and reached for Ian’s face and he took that as his cue to continue.

“He’s - he’s pretty awesome. I didn’t know though that’s he’s, you know. Gay,” Ian glanced again over toward the door as if waiting for it to bang open and reveal Debbie. But it didn’t. It stayed firmly closed. Courage began to fill him and he continued on. 

“I’ve never - I didn’t think  _ he was like me _ . But I don’t know how I could’ve missed it, you know. He’s just - I thought that I loved Kash. I mean, he’s nice and stuff. But Mickey - I mean, this guy, he’s not nice. I mean, he probably is, but I’ve never - well, Mic - I mean, he’s -  _ fuck _ . Let me start over,” Ian paused and shifted Liam to one arm to run a hand through his hair as he struggled to find his words.

“I slept with a guy. A new guy,” he began staring at Liam’s forehead. “He’s - he’s not what I expected.”

The room was filled with silence as Ian contemplated voicing out loud what else was on his mind. He could talk about the blueness of Mickey’s eyes or the way his body buzzed when he left the Milkovich house. He could even talk about how good Mickey smelled or the way he tried to give off such a tough guy exterior. The thing was Ian could tell there was more to him. He was barely scratching the surface when it came to Mickey Milkovich.

More importantly, Mickey  _ trusted _ him.

Ian liked how he got under Mickey’s skin. He liked that he was a certain kind of softness wrapped in a hard shell. He’d known the guy for many years and he’s always assumed that he was an asshole. He thought that he was a bully.

But in that bedroom, Ian had seen something else inside him. Something that had been waiting to be released for a long time. The way he let Ian hold his hand, how he bit his lower lip in that sexy way to avoid making any noise, and how he looked into his eyes. It was pretty fucking awesome.

“He’s like a Snickers bar, Liam. That probably sounds stupid, but he has  _ layers _ . He seems so tough on the outside, but I don’t - I think there’s more underneath. I think he’s like Mandy, you know. You think you know what you’re getting, but there’s - there’s more to be discovered. I just - he’s so different from everyone else. And he doesn’t give a shit about it. He’s always been that way, you know. Like he doesn’t make any apologies for who he is and that’s just - it’s admirable,” Ian looked down at Liam whose eyes were slowly beginning to close. But Ian didn’t want to move just yet. 

“I wonder - I wonder if he’s slept with anyone else. In this neighborhood...I mean, he’d have to - he’d have to…” Ian trailed off as he focused on the trust they had just given each other. He kept seeing the desire in Mickey’s blue eyes as he looked at him from above with the tire iron hanging loosely in his hand. When Ian had peeked at him when Mickey hadn’t hit him, he saw Mickey’s walls slip.

In this neighborhood, something like what they just did could easily get them killed. If Mickey had slept with other guys, then they couldn’t be South Side. But Ian had a hard time imagining him going to Boystown to pick up some random hook up.

Also Ian wasn’t even sure what picking someone up in Boystown looked like. He’d never really thought about going there for some ass. He’d gotten lucky with Donkey Dick and Kash, but for someone like Mickey - well, it had to be difficult to find someone to trust enough to sleep with him.

And Mickey had given him that trust. 

He’d asked for nothing in return.

He’d muttered a half-hearted threat, but Ian could see through it.

Shaking his head, Ian looked down at Liam who was now fast asleep. Carefully, he stood up and moved to set his brother down in the crib. He was slowly inching away when he heard the distant sound of Debbie yelling up the stairs for him. Edging out of the room, he hurried down the stairs and found Debbie standing at the foot of them holding out the cell phone.

“Linda says you gotta go to the Kash N Grab. Says it’s an emergency,” Debbie said. 

Ian frowned at the phone in her hand and then glanced over toward Carl who was watching him. 

“Yeah, okay. Liam is down for his nap. I’ll be back after my shift I guess. Lip and Fiona should be home soon.”

Debbie and Carl exchanged looks then nodded.

He gave them a tight smile and then grabbed his coat to head to the Kash N Grab. As he headed toward the store, a sickening dread began to fill his stomach at the prospect of facing Kash.

He wasn’t sure if it was technically cheating when they weren’t a ‘real’ couple, but Ian felt the stirrings of guilt anyway. But as quickly as it welled up, it was chased away. Possibilities of what the emergency could be fluttered through his mind. 

_ Was it Mickey related?  _

He smiled to himself as he imagined those blue eyes gazing right at him. 

* * *

When Ian got home that night, he headed straight to his room. He could hear his siblings in the kitchen eating, but he wanted to be alone. He needed a few minutes of silence so he could try to figure out what exactly had just happened at the Kash N Grab.

_ Fucking Linda. _

_ Fucking Kash. _

He didn’t want to be in the middle of their shit in the first place and now it seemed like he was going to stay right there between them. For a few minutes this morning, he’d found peace. Now he was thrown right back into this shitshow. 

He wasn’t sure how he felt about Linda demanding that he didn’t see Kash anymore, but he did know the guilt that had started earlier from sleeping with Mickey had changed. He kept seeing the way Linda had looked at him.

The anger. 

The frustration.

The pain.

And Ian was the cause.

_ You could do better… _

Blue eyes and a perpetual scowl came to his mind when she’d said those words.

He grabbed the handle of his drawer and opened it in search of a joint. Instead, he found some old Snickers bars and took them out to munch on. He forgot that Debbie had given them to him awhile ago. He was on his second one when Lip came into the room. 

“What happened to your face?” Lip asked. His brother came to sit next to him on the bed and stole one of the Snickers. Before he could protest, he produced a joint.

“Nothing,” Ian said quietly, grabbing the offered joint and lighting it.

Lip raised an eyebrow, “where were you this morning? You left early.”

“What are you, my mother?” Ian snapped back.

Lip held his hands up in surrender. “Just a concerned brother.”

Ian sighed heavily and handed him the joint, “sorry, I didn’t mean - shit.”

Lip shrugged, “what are brothers for?”

The two fell into silence as they both smoked the joint and finished off the Snickers bars. 

“Did I tell you that guy that caught me cheating offered me a scholarship? Wants me to come down to the University,” Lip mumbled finally.

“What?” Ian asked in confusion.

“Yeah, said I could go far or whatever.”

Ian stared at him as he took a hit of the joint and passed it back. He would never understand his brother. Lip was smart. There was no question about it. If Ian had his brains, he’d make sure to use them to get exactly what he wanted.

But Lip, he almost saw his genius as a nuisance.

Like a disease.

If Ian was as smart as Lip, he’d take advantage of it. Get into West Point, get scholarships, work hard. Get away from the cluster fuck he made of Kash’s marriage… Lip just took it for granted. Ian didn’t understand how he didn’t see it for the gift it was; it should be the ticket to get him out of the South Side.

For a moment, Ian considered asking him why he didn’t take the scholarship, but he already knew the answer. 

And yet...

“Why aren’t you going to take it?” he asked finally.

Lip looked at him incredulously, “I can’t leave.”

Ian scoffed, “why not?”

“Because,” Lip paused to hand him back the joint and take the last Snickers. Ian waited for him to continue speaking, but when he didn’t say anything, he bumped his shoulders.

“You tell Fiona to leave all the time. Maybe you’re the one who really wants to leave,” Ian said quietly.

Lip rolled his eyes, “College is for pussies. I don’t--”

“Lip--”

“Not for me.”

Ian stared down at the ends of the joint as he tried to figure out what to say to his brother. His incredibly smart brother who seemed to make the dumbest decisions alive. Sometimes he wanted to knock some sense into him, but he knew that no matter what he said or did, Lip would make his own decisions.

“Do you ever think about what we’re meant to do? Like are we meant to leave the South Side? Or are we doomed to be stuck here forever?” Ian asked quietly.

Lip laughed quietly and plucked the remains of the joint from his fingers. He sucked the end of it until the ember went out.

“I think that you’ll do whatever you want, Ian. You have - drive or whatever. You’re - you want to leave. You’ll go do something great.”

“What about you?” Ian asked.

Lip shrugged, “I’ll think of something.”

“Do you think getting what we want is enough though? If we end up leaving...or if we end up like Fiona, are we actually, like, ever going to feel--”

“I think you’re high as fuck right now and need to stop whatever train you’re on. Fiona didn’t have a choice. We do,” Lip said.

Ian smiled slightly and they fell into silence. He debated bringing up what happened at the store today with Kash and Linda, but the words got stuck in his throat. He opened his mouth a few times, but Lip wasn’t paying him any attention and started to speak.

“Listen, Ian, do whatever you want. Live in the moment. You’re only young once, you know? And some day we’re both going to wake up and be in our mid 30s and wonder what the fuck happened. Might as well enjoy what we have now, right?”

Ian looked at Lip for a long moment and then nodded slowly.

The words bounced around in his mind and conjured up an image of Mickey’s face - his bottom lip tucked into his mouth. Those blue eyes blazing into Ian’s. 

He didn’t want it to be a one time thing with Mickey. 

He wanted it to happen again. 

It was a strange realization to have when Ian hadn’t even realized that he’d been worried about it not happening again.

He opened his mouth to ask Lip how he could convince Mickey to sleep with him again, but his brother was flipping open his phone and grinning down at it.

“Going to see Karen. See you later,” he said standing up and changing his shirt before leaving.

Ian felt a stab of jealousy at watching his brother go, but he didn’t linger on it too long. He’d figure out a way to entice Mickey again. Whatever it took, it was worth it. It was what he wanted. 

_ Living in the moment and all that shit. _

* * *

It was fucking freezing as Ian walked to work. On his way, he tried to figure out the best way to seduce Mickey into going another round. He’d been thinking about it for the last few days as he tried to figure out whether he should be the one to make the first move or if he should wait for Mickey. 

So far his plan pretty much amounted to: talk to Mickey.

It shouldn’t be this hard.

As far as Ian knew, Mickey didn’t really seem like he was the type to shy away from becoming fuck buddies. But there was a lot that Ian was realizing he didn’t know about him. While he may not seem shy on the outside, Ian had the sneaking suspicion that he didn’t go around sleeping with guys all that often. 

In fact, Ian had never really heard about Mickey sleeping with girls either. He remembered Lip mentioning Mickey asking Karen out once and he’d seen him around with Angie Zhago, but other than that, Ian didn’t really think Mickey was the kind to randomly hook up.

He’d been replaying their hook up in his mind. 

A lot.

Probably an unhealthy amount.

He could pinpoint the moment when their fight had turned to lust. But he wasn’t sure when Mickey had signaled to Ian that he was interested. Was Ian missing something altogether? He’d apparently mised Mickey was gay to begin with. 

Or was he just experimenting?

This circular thought process kept him going for the last few days. But the one point he kept coming back to was: what did he miss?

As doubts began to infiltrate his mind, Ian remembered that they were South Side. 

South Side gay men wouldn’t risk getting caught by their homophobic asshole fathers just to see if sucking dick was what they were into.

No, if Mickey had taken the opportunity to jump him, to Ian that meant that  _ he knew who he was _ and wanted to go for it. 

_ Right? _

Since they were two South Side guys who didn’t really have any other options - Ian ignored the fact that they both  _ did  _ have other options - why shouldn’t they take some of the edge off and fuck each other?

It was a win-win.

That was the argument that he was prepared to use with Mickey. 

After the whole situation with Linda and Kash, Ian needed a change. He didn’t realize how much until Mickey’s bedroom. He’d thought hearing Linda say he and Kash had to stop seeing each other until she was pregnant would be heart wrenching, but over the last few days, he didn’t feel as downtrodden as he thought he would be. 

In fact, he almost felt some relief at not having to deal with Kash.

But none of this really helped him, other than it gave him more time to obsess about something he wasn’t even sure was going to happen again. He had no idea how he could encourage Mickey to go another time. Donkey Dick had just kinda happened and Kash had been the one to come on to him. Ian wished that he’d thought to ask Lip how to seduce someone before he left the house today. 

He kept reminding himself to ask Lip, but he forgot - or was putting it off.

It was his first day back to work since the debacle with Kash and Linda. There was a  chance he’d see Mickey today and he wanted to know what he could do to--

Ian’s stomach dropped to his toes as he saw Mickey with Iggy and his cousin - Joey? Or was it Jamie? - standing on the corner. Suddenly, his throat grew dry and he tried to ignore his heart hammering in his chest. As he got closer to them, he saw Mickey glance at him and then look away. 

_ Were Mickey’s cheeks red? _

_ Did he look away too quickly? _

_ Was he embarrassed? _

Ian shook his head a little and reminded himself that it was cold and Mickey was probably just freezing like he was. He contemplated crossing the street to avoid having to deal with them, but right as he was considering it, traffic began to pick up. Besides, it wouldn’t make sense to cross the street and then come right back since he had to turn left at the corner anyway.

When he was within spitting distance of them, Iggy called out.

“Yo Gallagher, you want some weed? We got some dope ass shit,” Iggy said patting the backpack slung over his shoulder. 

Ian’s eyes darted to Mickey, but found him talking intently to their cousin and studiously avoiding his eyes. 

“Uh, no, man. Maybe another time,” Ian said.

He was now right in front of Iggy and he could reach out to Mickey, if he wanted to. Not that he wanted to.

Iggy shrugged one shoulder and glanced over at Mickey. “Told you we should’ve stayed on our usual corner. No one comes this way.”

Mickey stopped talking to their cousin and glared at his brother. “We’re widening our customer base, Iggy. I fucking told you this.”

Ian noticed that his eyes didn’t even flicker toward him. A sinking sensation began in his belly and he felt irrationally annoyed suddenly. He moved to step around Iggy, so he could continue on his way to work when he was stopped again.

“Your brother want any?” 

Ian glanced over his shoulder to answer Iggy when he saw Mickey’s eyes were trained on him. When Ian caught his eye, he quickly looked away and focused back on the cousin. Ian smirked and told Iggy ‘no thanks’ and continued on his way to work.

The cold wasn’t as bothersome as it had been when he started his journey. As a matter of fact, he felt a little lighter too.The flash of anger he’d felt had also completely dissipated. 

At least until he got to work and saw Linda working behind the counter.

Sighing, he tossed his bag next to her and tried to avoid her eyes. But those dark, angry orbs were glaring right on him.

Any of the levity he may have been feeling before, slowly dripped away from his body as 

he began to count the drawer for their shift change.

“You know, I always wondered what was wrong with him,” Linda said.

It was the first time she’d spoken since he came in. He glanced up at her and opened his  mouth to tell her that there was nothing wrong with being gay when she continued to speak.

“Don’t look at me like that. I don’t care if he’s gay, Ian,” she sighed and he watched as she sagged before his eyes.

“I don’t care that he’s gay. I care that he lied. That he cheated. That he…” Linda looked away suddenly and yanked the ones out of the drawer to begin counting them. “You know we met in a park. In Grant Park, actually.” 

Ian couldn’t really see either of them hanging out in Grant Park. But like Linda had said the a week ago during their impromptu target practice, she’d lived a lot of years before Kash.

“I liked him because he didn’t seem like he’d hurt me. Like he’d be there for me. I even -

I even converted to Islam for him and this is how he repays me,” she moved to run a hand along her hijab, but paused before she could touch it. Slowly, she lowered her hand and looked Ian dead in the eye.

“Find someone better, Ian. Kash is… You can do better and you will do better. You have your whole life in front of you. You have  _ options _ . Don’t settle. Listen to your gut because - because you know who is right for you and who isn’t,” she sighed heavily and went back to counting the ones. 

He watched her for a moment and then cleared his voice. “I’m sorry, Linda. I really am.”

She didn’t react to his apology until she was done counting the ones and then moved on to the fives, which were hanging limply in his hand.

“If it wasn’t you, it would’ve been someone else,” she said rolling her shoulders and standing up straighter. 

She counted the fives and then tucked them back in the register before he started on the tens. She lingered for a few minutes. 

Ian wondered if she was going to hang out for his whole shift. But then she began to slowly move and collect her things.

“Don’t forget to lock the gate when you close up,” she said unnecessarily. 

She swung her purse over her shoulder and headed toward the door. With her hand on the door, she glanced over her shoulder at him and gave him a sad smile.

“Think about what I said,” she advised and then she was gone.

* * *

Once Linda left, Ian tried to busy himself with some homework he’d brought with him, restocked the drinks in the freezer, and unpacked some recently shipped vegetables. 

Linda’s words haunted him though; much like they had the first time around. He kept seeing her sad smile and then Kash’s frightened look when Linda confronted them. He’d expected to feel pity for Kash for dealing with Linda, but it was misplaced. Instead, he couldn’t stop feeling badly for Linda for putting up with Kash. 

By the late afternoon, he began to wonder what he’d seen in Kash at all. He didn’t stand up for himself. He let his wife walk all over him. He let a teenager beat him up.

But a tiny voice in the back of his mind reminded him that all he’d seen in Kash was someone who paid attention to him. Who seemed to love him. Who wanted him around.

He was shaken from his thoughts when the door rang to signal a customer. An older woman came in to buy some cans of soup. He was checking her out when the door opened again and Mickey Milkovich came in. He eyed Ian with a much different expression than he’d had earlier when he’d run into him on the street. The corner of his mouth was turned up and his blue eyes were twinkling. 

Ian felt heat begin to build in his stomach. He refocused on the woman in a vain hope that Mickey wouldn’t see how red his cheeks were getting.

“Got any Slim Jims in this shithole?” Mickey asked.

Ian bit the inside of his cheek to hold back his smile. He finished checking the woman out and stood up a little straighter as he began to walk around the counter to lock the door and flip the sign to ‘closed.’

“In the back,” he said, tossing a look that he hoped was seductive over his shoulder.

He caught Mickey’s tongue licking the corner of his mouth and Ian turned away to cover his smile.

_ Find someone better. _

Ian thought he already had.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't want to spoil anything, so I added a note down here. I always wondered how we got from the situation with Linda/Ian/Kash to Linda and Ian becoming almost friends? They would have to be pretty close for Ian to feel confident that he could help Mickey get a job at the Kash N Grab. I always thought she had a begrudging respect for him and vice versa especially after Kash leaves. Also if I got the semantics about Islam wrong, please let me know and I'll change it! Next chapter should be up next Friday. 
> 
> Thanks again for reading and let me know what you think if you'd like!


	3. Milky Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian has a crush on Mickey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a day early. Excitement. lol. I was debating on just uploading this tomorrow, but I had the time today so here we are. Chapter 3. I hope you guys enjoy it! Thanks to everyone who is reading, commenting, and kudoing. I really appreciate the feedback! 
> 
> Just some housekeeping things. Chapter 4 will be up Friday per usual. Also, I'm writing a Thanksgiving post season 10 one shot. It should be up Thursday. It'll be in the same universe as Never Tear Us Apart, but it can also just be read alone since it's just post season 10. 
> 
> As for this chapter, there's smut. So if it's not your thing, I just wanted to let you know and to be aware. Thanks for reading and please let me know what you think! Enjoy!

“So, uh, maybe you’d like to hang out some -  _ fuck _ . That sounds like I’m desperate. Okay, uh, hey, so you wanna chill -  _ fuck _ . That sounds stupid. Shit. _ What the fuck _ ,” Ian muttered. 

He sighed in defeat at his reflection in the mirror. Clearing his throat, he began to speak when there was a loud knock on the bathroom door.

“Yo! Ian, what the fuck? Are you done in there yet?” Lip whined.

He watched himself roll his eyes and then he ran a hand over his face before deciding  _ fuck it _ . Opening the door of the bathroom, Lip pushed past him and immediately headed to the toilet. Leaving the bathroom quickly, he headed downstairs to grab some breakfast before going to school. 

Per usual, Steve was in the kitchen nagging Fiona to go do something with him. Ian wasn’t paying much attention as he helped himself to the donuts Steve had no doubt brought over to suck up to them. 

He was so into Fiona Ian knew he could ask Steve for $1000 and as long as he told his sister how ‘great’ Steve was, he’d shell it over no sweat. 

Ian wasn’t really sure how he felt about Steve. He seemed nice enough, but he didn’t really  _ get _ how things worked around here. He was from money, Ian could tell. Or at least he came from a home where fending for himself wasn’t really heard of. 

Ian didn’t understand what Fiona saw in him, but as long as he kept bringing them shit, he was cool with it. Especially those tickets he’d handed over just to have a reason to stop over and see Fiona.

“Can you please eat oatmeal? I just made a pot of it and  _ he  _ brings donuts,” Fiona asked, giving him a desperate look.

Ian took a bite of donut in response, but he also got up and scooped some oatmeal into a bowl.

“Thanks,” she said. Steve began to ask her if she wanted to go to dinner tonight and she pointedly ignored him.

Ian tuned out his constant pestering and Fiona’s dogged attempts of dodging his questions. He knew his sister well enough that she wasn’t the kind to cave after being nagged into doing anything. She’d do what she’d want. 

And yet, when he glanced up at them, he found his sister melting a little the more Steve tried. 

Maybe she was changing. 

Or she just really liked Steve.

Again, Ian didn’t get it. 

But the guys he liked had a backbone.

Well, the  _ guy _ he liked had a backbone.

“Ian, can you guys take Liam to Sheila’s on your way to school? I picked up a shift at the motel and I need to be there in 30 minutes.” Fiona asked, ignoring as Steve let out a little huffy sound at being ignored.

Ian nodded, “Sure.” 

Shoveling a spoonful of oatmeal into his mouth, he heard the sounds of pounding feet coming down the stairs. Carl and Debbie came into the kitchen seconds later. Before they grabbed the donuts on the table, Fiona began to berate them to eat the oatmeal she’d made. Finally, Lip joined them in the kitchen and sat down beside Ian, taking the remaining half of his donut. Ian tried to slap his hands away, but Lip was too quick.

“You working after school?” Lip asked.

“Yeah.”

“I--” Lip began.

“Come on, guys! You need to be on your way. Out the door. Time for school,” Fiona interrupted. She handed a bundled up Liam to Debbie and gestured to the pre-packed lunches on the counter. When no one moved, she put her hands on her hips and glared at them.

“Let’s go! Come on!” 

Shuffling slowly, the four of them - plus Liam - began to make their way out the door. Ian took Liam from Debbie, so she could get her coat on and then they headed out into the cold Chicago weather. The burst of iciness caused Ian to shiver and tuck Liam closer to his body. 

“What are you doing after school?” Ian asked, picking up their conversation from when Lip had been interrupted.

He lit a cigarette and shrugged, “was going to go down to the University I think. It’s cool though, I’ll ask Karen.”

Ian shifted Liam as his bag began to slip over his shoulder. Lip helped right his bag and he nodded at him in thanks. They were quiet for a few minutes as they watched Debbie and Carl rush ahead of them, pushing each other as they tried to make room for themselves on the sidewalk.

“Who were you talking to in the bathroom?” Lip asked suddenly.

Ian glanced at him cautiously, debating with himself if he should tell Lip that he was seeing someone new. (Although,  _ seeing _ might be stretching it.) 

This could be the perfect opportunity to ask Lip for some advice on maintaining a steady hook up. Ian didn’t have much experience in the department of casual sex. Donkey Dick was a one-time thing and Kash, well, it was as close to a relationship as Ian had ever had. 

For a long time, he thought it was the  _ only real relationship  _ he’d ever had.

But then along came Mickey, who was a whole different animal. 

Since they’d hooked up for the second time a few days ago, Ian had no idea where they stood. They hadn’t had a real conversation to provide him with any insight either. But then again Ian hadn’t tried very hard to get Mickey to talk to him. Every time he thought about talking about feelings and shit, a squirming sensation began in his gut. Like a worm was wiggling around in there.

He felt lucky to get out a few optimistic-sounding grunts from Mickey. And yet, he somehow knew that Mickey was as invested in this arrangement as he was. He couldn’t describe how he knew or what Mickey did that made him think that. It was the look in his eyes. The tiny quirk of his lips when Ian advanced toward him. The way he leaned into him.

When he asked if it was a booty call, the only response Ian’d gotten out of Mickey was a ‘whatever.’ Which he kept telling himself was  _ fine _ . 

He took it as a ‘yes’ and decided that Mickey would come around  _ eventually _ . He just needed to figure out what made him tick. 

Besides, he swore he saw his lips upturn the slightest bit. Ian had marked that down in the ‘good’ column of Things To Know About Mickey. 

Still, it wasn’t very informative. 

But Ian would wait until Mickey was ready.

Lip had a lot of experience with fucking friends - Karen - or just casually hooking up - half the neighborhood - so he could have some good insight. And yet...Ian hesitated.

“So?” Lip nudged him as they got to the corner to turn toward Sheila’s. Ian realized he’d been quiet for too long and cleared his throat.

“Um, no one.”

“But--”

“Lip! Do we have to come with you guys to Sheila’s? Can’t we just continue walking to school?” Carl yelled back at him.

Lip looked between Carl and Debbie who were looking at him with those wide eyed kid looks that showed so clearly how much they trusted their eldest brother. 

“Yeah, sure. Ian and I will take Liam,” Lip said shooing them away.

Debbie and Carl departed from them as they continued on. Ian handed Liam over to Lip when he passed him his cigarette. Thankfully, their conversation turned toward Karen, which Ian was only too glad to talk about. Even if Karen wasn’t his favorite topic, he was happy for the distraction.

He wasn’t ready to tell his brother about Mickey just yet.

He wanted to hold onto this secret a bit longer.

* * *

Everyone knew that you could score the best weed in the library at the high school. No one really paid attention in there. There was a rumor that the librarian Mrs. Clemons actually smoked in the stacks. Plus there were some really quiet, secluded areas to do drug deals in. And no one looked at you funny when you said you had to go to the library.

But Ian wasn’t in the library to score weed.

Or buy coke.

Or molly.

He was there to actually study. He had a really big math test coming up in a few days and he had no idea what was going on in Geometry. He had his Chapter 9 notes spread out across one of the study desks all the way in the back corner of the library when he heard footsteps approaching.

Ignoring the louder-than-a-library-should-be voices, he tried to focus on defining the Pythagorean Theorem. But when the pungent scent of pot began to waft toward him, he knew the group wasn’t there to study.

And didn’t seem to be leaving any time soon.

“$40, Williams.”

Ian’s insides turned to ice as he recognized that voice. He tentatively lifted his head from his textbook to look toward where the voice came from. In between the stacks, he could see Mickey Milkovich and three other guys he vaguely recognized standing there. Two of them looked to be buying pot and the other one Ian had seen hanging out with Mickey a few times. He assumed that they were ‘friends.’ Besides knowing the tall blonde was a four time Freshman, he didn’t know anything else about him.

As he watched the drug deal in the back of the library stacks, Mickey’s eyes lifted and met his. Ian was about to duck back down to go back to studying when Mickey raised his eyebrows and turned back to his customers. Ian swore that he spotted his lips curling up into a smile or at the very least a smirk.

He’d turned away too quickly for Ian to really tell.

Turning back to his textbook, Ian tried to focus on the words in front of him, but they were swimming together. His brain wasn’t registering any of them. 

He wasn’t going to get much done now during his study hall. Not when Mickey was less than three feet away. Instead of thinking about triangles, he wondered if Mickey was going to come over and talk to him.

_ I fucking hope so. _

“Beat it,” he heard Mickey say and then footsteps coming closer.

His stomach flip-flopped and he tried to make sense of the paragraph he was reading for the ninth time. He looked up right as Mickey came to a pause right next to the little study desk.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, tucking two $20s into his pocket.

Ian flipped the textbook closed and tapped it, “math test.”

He was proud of himself when he heard how steady his voice was when his insides were a mess.

Mickey nodded slowly, “Geometry?”

“Yeah.”

“You any good?” 

Ian wasn’t sure if it was his imagination or not, but he could’ve sworn that there was a flirty tone to Mickey’s question.

“Not really.” 

He smirked when Mickey grinned.

“You could help me, if you can tear yourself away from dealing,” Ian heard himself say over the rushing sound in his ears.

He bit his lip as he waited for Mickey’s response. He couldn’t believe that he actually had the courage to ask him that. That was fucking stupid. He already knew that he was going to blow him off. What type of booty call wanted to help with fucking math homework? Mickey was probably going to say no. He was going to tell him that he was busy. That he didn’t do that type of shit.

Even though he had helped him once before with his math homework while he waited for Lip to write a paper for him. But now--

“What do you need help with?” Mickey asked, itching his eyebrow with his thumb.

Ian opened his mouth to respond and then shut it. His brain wasn’t properly connected to his mouth. He began to say something again and then closed it. He hadn’t actually thought Mickey would say ‘yes.’

“Oh, uh, it’s on the Pythagorean Theorem.”

Mickey stared down at him and Ian shifted uncomfortably. 

“What about it?” Mickey asked when Ian didn’t elaborate.

“We have - we have to solve for the hypotenuse for a few problems. The whole test is--”

“I mean what part do you need help with?”

“Oh!” Ian ducked his head and focused on his textbook on the pretense to look for the right page. But it was mostly to hide his rapidly growing crimson face as embarrassment flooded him. “Yeah, sorry. I’m just...lost.”

Mickey let out a little huff of laughter and pulled up a chair from one of the neighboring study desks. He plopped down in the seat and scooted it a bit closer to the table. As he moved, his shoulder bumped Ian’s. 

Ian’s stomach flipped when their knees accidentally brushed. He shifted and scooted closer to the desk, making sure to avoid Mickey’s eyes. Instead, he focused on the page in front of him. He could hear the steady racing of his heart and he took a deep breath in to try to stay calm.

When Mickey’s hand rested on the desk, he couldn’t help but stare at those knuckles with ‘FUCK’ tattooed on them. Slowly, he raised his eyes to see Mickey watching him curiously. 

“Clearly. You don’t even know what you’re being tested on.”

Ian narrowed his eyes at him, “I know what I’m being tested on.”

Mickey waved his hand at the textbook, “then show me. I’ll see if I can help.”

It took a moment for his words to register as Ian’s focus had been on his eyes. But when Mickey began to rub at the skin above his lip, Ian snapped to it and went back to the page he’d been on. He scooted his chair a little closer and pushed his textbook over toward Mickey to look at it. Waiting as Mickey acquainted himself with the work, he couldn’t help but study his profile.

He took in those soft-looking pink lips, his pallid complexion, the curve of his cheeks, the slope of his nose. Ian clenched his fist as his fingers moved on their own accord to touch him. He picked up his pencil instead and began to absentmindedly play with it to keep his hands busy. 

They might be alone in the stacks in the library, but that didn’t mean they were in a safe area. Anyone could walk in on them and Ian knew that was 100% the last thing that Mickey would want. Or himself. He might be more accepting of himself than Mickey, but he didn’t want the whole school to know he was gay.

“The easiest way to remember how to find the right hypotenuse is that it’s the opposite of the right angle and it’s the longest side of the triangle. If you--”

_ Ring...Ring...Ring… _

The bell went off to signal it was time to change classes. Ian groaned in annoyance. “Shit, I gotta go to English.”

Mickey pushed his chair away from Ian and stood up. 

“When’s your test?”

“Friday.”

As he gathered his things, Ian suddenly had an idea. “Do you - I mean, would you want to maybe come over and hang out? I mean, help me with studying and everything?”

Mickey looked toward one end of the stacks and began to itch his eyebrow again. Ian felt a sinking sensation in his stomach even though Mickey hadn’t answered yet. He somehow already knew the answer.

“It’s cool, Mickey. I just figured--”

“I’m busy, man. Sorry.”

Ian frowned and opened his mouth to try to cover up his discomfort after being turned down, but Mickey was already walking away from him. 

He turned back to his backpack and finished stuffing his books into it before following after him. He saw his dark hair in the sea of students leaving the library and Ian wished that he’d look back at him. Show him some sign that he wasn’t just trading being part of one dirty secret for another.

But Mickey never looked back and Ian wondered if he was ever going to be with someone who was proud to show him off.

* * *

The rest of the day passed too quickly for Ian. He figured it had something to do with having to go to the Kash N Grab after school and face Kash. He seriously dreaded it. Maybe if he wasn’t filled with discomfort and guilt every time he saw him, he’d see the irony in how he used to be overly excited to see his...whatever Kash had been to him.

Mandy was hanging out with some of her girl friends after school and Lip had already taken off to go to the University, so he was on his own to walk home.

“You want company, Firecrotch?”

Ian glanced over his shoulder to spot Mickey swaggering his way. He gave him an amused grin and Ian couldn’t help but return the smile. He stopped walking to wait for him. His long walk home looked a little brighter than it had moments ago.

“You stayed till the end of the day? That’s...surprising.” 

“Had a few last minute drug deals,” Mickey said with a little shrug.

“I’m headed to the Kash N Grab,” Ian replied.

Mickey had now caught up to him and they began to walk again, this time in sync. 

“You working today?” 

“Yeah. I usually work the weekends and Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, and sometimes Friday,” 

Mickey nodded and dug his hands in his pockets. Occasionally, Mickey’s arm bumped into him as they shared the sidewalk. Ian was trying not to think that it  _ meant something  _ (although, he hoped that it did). 

Ian began to search his mind for possible topics of conversation. A desire to know more about Mickey simmering beneath the surface. He just wasn’t sure what he should ask him to get him to open up to him a little bit more. Kash had been easy to get to know. They  _ worked  _ together. Of course, they had to talk. But Mickey, he was difficult. They weren’t tied together and Ian only had a few precious minutes with him before they would go their separate ways. He wanted to make the most of it. 

But before he could ask a question, Mickey began to speak.

“They treat you okay there?” Mickey asked.

Ian’s stomach jolted at the question. He was caught off guard and when he looked at Mickey, he found him studying him with curious blue eyes.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t they?”

Mickey shrugged, “the woman seems okay, but the guy--”

“Kash.”

“Seems like an asshole.”

Ian bite his lip to hold back a smile and against his better judgement he began to tell Mickey about Kash being gay and Linda finding out.

“How’d she find out?” Mickey asked. He handed him a few fun-sized Milk Ways from his pocket where they had become a little crushed. The edges of the candy bar had become a mix of goo and pieces of chocolate, but Ian didn’t mind. He thought it was kinda nice - maybe a little sweet - that Mickey was sharing his chocolate with him. (Once again, he was probably reading more into this than he should.) 

“Teacher gave them to us,” he muttered at Ian’s questioning look.

He shrugged and popped one in his mouth. Around the chocolate and gooey caramel, he said, “she installed cameras.”

“Cameras?”

“Yeah, cause of the stealing.” 

Ian gave him a pointed look and Mickey rolled his eyes.

“Whatever. So he was fucking in the store?”

Ian nodded and finished chewing the rest of the Milky Way.

Mickey frowned for a moment and they fell into silence. Ian wondered what Mickey was thinking. But before he could ask a question of his own, Mickey asked, “so you guys were fucking?”

Ian tried to decipher the tone in which he asked the question. But there was no anger or accusation or even jealousy and Ian was a little let down that Mickey was just  _ inquiring _ to know. His tone was even-keeled, nothing spectacular about it. If the tables had been turned, Ian knew that he’d fucking care. But he wouldn’t want to show he cared… But upon closer inspection, he still couldn’t tell if Mickey was asking cause he was jealous or just wanted to know. (He already knew he’d be obsessing about this tonight as he replied this conversation.)

It was infuriating.

For Mickey, there was no ulterior motive. And really, Ian had been the one to bring it up in the first place cause he was - well, he just wanted to get Mickey to talk and now he’d just -  _ fuck _ .

“Yeah,” Ian said reluctantly. “I didn’t - it all just sort’ve happened.”

“Is it still happening?” Mickey asked.

Ian looked up in surprise from where he was studying the icy sidewalk. Mickey was biting his lip as he waited for him to answer.

Slowly shaking his head, he saw Mickey turn back to face front and his shoulders sagged a little. 

Ian hoped that it was in relief.

Or maybe it was because they hadn’t exactly been careful in using protection. Maybe Mickey was nervous about catching something? 

_ Shit, I should pick up condoms. _

“No. Even if Linda hadn’t caught us… It wasn’t what I wanted anymore.” Ian chose his words carefully.

He was walking on eggshells with this conversation. If he said the wrong thing, he was worried that Mickey would decide that he wanted to end whatever this was before they actually started it. On the other hand, if he gave too much of himself away and tried to placate Mickey, he could get an answer he wasn’t exactly happy with.

Like Ian could fuck whomever he wanted.

Or Mickey’s lack of jealousy that definitely signaled that Ian was thinking way more about this than he was.

“What do you want now?” Mickey asked quietly.

Ian noted that he wasn’t looking at him, instead focusing on the snowy sidewalk in front of them.

This was the ultimate test, Ian decided. This is where he could say that he just wanted a ‘booty call’ or he wanted something ‘real.’ He could scare Mickey off or he could let him down. Instead, Ian took out a cigarette from the inside of his coat pocket and lit it up. He handed it over to Mickey and watched as their fingers brushed against one another. His cold hands felt a little warmer as the cigarette passed between them.

“Not sure yet. You?” Ian asked.

Mickey smirked around the cigarette and shrugged one shoulder. “Some fun.”

Ian grinned back and plucked the cigarette back from him. 

The previous worry he’d had from earlier in the library when Mickey blew him off began to dissipate. 

Maybe he was reading this all wrong? 

He’d spent so much time being hidden by Kash, he was feeling a little paranoid. Mickey was different.  _ Way _ different than Kash and it wasn’t fair to compare him. When Kash didn’t want to answer Ian’s questions or if he pretended not to hear him, that was different than Mickey saying he was busy.

Maybe all he needed was some patience and Mickey would come to him. It wasn’t a declaration or anything, but for the first time since they’d entered this  _ whatever it was _ , Ian felt like maybe they were on common ground.

He just needed to be patient.

* * *

Ian couldn’t say that he was spending  _ more  _ time over at Mandy’s since he and Mickey started this  _ whatever it was.  _ But when she mentioned coming over to hang out, he didn’t hesitate to say ‘yes.’ 

So on Friday after school as they walked back to their neighborhood and Mandy suggested that he come over since he had the evening off, Ian agreed. She was supposed to be going to a party later that night and wanted his advice on the best outfit to wear to impress some guy she had her eye on.

“You know you’re stereotyping when you suggest that I have good fashion sense,” Ian joked as they got closer to her house.

She rolled her eyes, “I’m not stereotyping. I’m asking my  _ guy  _ friend what a  _ guy  _ would think would look hot. I’d ask Mickey, but that would be weird.”

“Oh, is Mickey home?” Ian asked hoping he sounded casual.

“Probably. He was suspended.”

“For what?” 

She shrugged and opened the gate for him. He followed after her as he tried to remember if he’d heard any rumors about fights or stabbings or kids being caught with drugs in school. 

“Anyone here?” Mandy called out.

They heard a shuffling and Iggy and Mickey emerged from the kitchen. They both had bowls of cereal. Ian guessed they had been getting high since the entire house smelled like pot. But every time he’d been over to the Milkovich residence it either smelled like pot or cigarettes. Sometimes vomit if it was right after a party like the time he’d come over after Terry’s coming home party and he and Mickey had started this...tryst.

“Got any more?” Mandy asked heading toward her room to drop off her backpack.

“Got any more what?” Iggy asked through a mouthful of cereal.

Ian smirked and sat down on the couch. Mickey joined him and when Ian peaked over at him, he found him studiously looking down into his bowl. He wasn’t sure if he was imagining it or not, but he swore he shifted a little closer. 

“Pot, dipshit,” Mandy said sitting on the other side of Ian. 

Iggy huffed and put his bowl of cereal down on the coffee table. He mumbled about how annoying Mandy was, but went to his room anyway. Mandy smiled in triumph and turned on the television. 

“Iggy and I were going to watch  _ Hard Target _ ,” Mickey whined.

He placed his bowl of cereal next to Iggy’s and lunged across Ian to grab the remote from Mandy. She shrieked loudly and wiggled out of his way. Ian froze as half of Mickey’s body spread out across his lap. He knew logically that he was just trying to wrestle the remote from his sister, but the way he was wiggling across him made every molecule of his body prickle to life. 

Mickey Milkovich was in his lap. 

And yeah, it was only half of him, but -  _ fuck, he felt good _ . If Mickey kept wiggling like that then--  _ fuck, it was happening _ .

“I’m going to go to the bathroom,” Ian said quickly. He slithered out from under Mickey and Mandy and hurried into the bathroom in Mickey’s room. He locked the door hastily and tried to remain calm. He knew no one saw, but…

_ Mrs. Clemons’ thong hanging out of her pants. _

_ Frank. _

_ Lip talking about fucking Karen. _

_ Carl electrocuting Debbie’s dolls. _

_ Steve… _

“Gallagher, you done in there?” Mickey’s voice penetrated through the door.

Ian looked at his reflection in the dirty mirror and then down at his nether regions as he willed his hard on to disappear.

_ Nope, it was still there. _

He swore he got harder after hearing Mickey’s voice.

“Hold on,” he muttered, turning the knobs on to wash his hands. Then he opened the door to see Mickey wearing a mischievous smirk.

“You really had to go, huh?” Mickey said, raising his eyebrows.

Maybe he was overthinking this whole situation. But he swore Mickey was teasing him. Was it just his imagination? Had he been watching too many of Fiona’s rom-coms? Was he reading way too much into all of this?

(Probably, but who cared when Mickey was looking at him like that. Like he was endlessly delighted with him.)

“Yeah, yeah,” he said weakly.

Mickey grinned and stepped into the bathroom. He closed and locked the door behind him. Ian watched him look down and slowly back up at him. He didn’t think he was seeing things, there was definitely a twinkle in Mickey’s eyes.

When he registered that exhilarated gleam, his stomach fell down to his toes and careened back up. He hadn’t thought that Mickey would be so bold, but he continuously surprised him. 

He didn’t like kissing him, but he wanted to flirt with him.

He was okay with them holding hands while fucking, but cuddling was off the table.

Mickey Milkovich was fucking confusing and Ian really liked it.

“Need some help there, Firecrotch?” 

His brow was arched as he asked and his eyes flickered down and lazily back up. Ian couldn’t remember how to breathe as their eyes met. 

When Mickey’s lips widened into a knowing smirk, Ian pushed him back up against the door and buried his head in his neck. He knew that Mickey didn’t like kissing - or want to kiss him - but if he kept looking at him, he would probably blow this entire arrangement up.

He wanted to fucking kiss him.

Really badly.

Instead, he began to leave open mouth kisses along his neck and then he shoved his hand between the top of his jeans and Mickey’s soft skin. He smiled to himself when he realized that Mickey was already growing hard.

“Seems like I’m not the only one who needs help,” Ian mused, stroking him.

Mickey let out a huff of laughter and leaned his head against his shoulder. Ian took that as his cue to continue with his movements. Tightening his grip on Mickey’s cock with one hand, he began to undo the button and zipper of his jeans. With Mickey’s help, they were able to push his pants to his lower thighs. Ian smirked when he saw how ready Mickey already was. He glanced up to find Mickey watching him cautiously.

“Got any lube in here?” Ian asked quietly.

Mickey visibly swallowed and silently reached down to his jean’s pocket and pulled out a small tube. He handed it over to Ian and ducked his head to avoid the incredulous look Ian was giving him. 

Had Mickey been planning this? Or had he grabbed it on his way to the bathroom? Was this some type of sign that Ian needed to know that Mickey was as into this as he was?

He wasn’t reading into it - maybe he was a little - but if he was, this would be something that proved that Mickey liked him.

Liked fucking him at least.

Ian was okay with that.

For now.

“You gonna continue staring at me or are we gonna hurry this fucking show along?” Mickey snapped. 

Ian nodded and grabbed his arm to pull him forward. Mickey kicked off his jeans and Ian took his shirt and his pants off. He looked around the dirty, cramped bathroom, but Mickey was already one step ahead. He grabbed the edge of the tub and glanced over his shoulder at Ian. 

Hesitantly, he moved forward and grabbed Mickey’s waist. 

“Not going to fucking break, Gallagher,” Mickey grumbled.

Nodding as if he were preparing himself, Ian squirted some lube onto his hand and began to stroke his own cock. Once it was coated, hard, and slick, he took his two slippery fingers and positioned them at Mickey’s opening. He let out a sharp hiss at the intrusion and Ian glanced over Mickey’s shoulder to see his face.

Instead of the pain he expected, he saw Mickey biting his lower lip and scrunching up his eyes.

“You okay?” Ian muttered moving his first finger slowly as he began to open Mickey up.

“Not going to fucking break, Firecrotch,” Mickey said breathing heavily.

Ian laughed softly, but he gripped his hip harder and pulled him a little closer to add in a second finger. When Mickey began to let out little gasping sounds, he knew that he was feeling more pleasure as Ian continued to stretch him. 

When he added a third finger and Mickey’s gasps turned into quiet moans, Ian wanted nothing more than to kiss him. But instead, he lined himself up to his opening and slowly pushed inside of him. 

He heard that same little sharp intake of breath and then Mickey sighed in what Ian thought was contentment. Once he was fully sheathed in Mickey’s heat, he bent him over a bit more at the waist and rested one hand on the back of his left shoulder. With his right hand, he gripped his waist to keep him right where he wanted him.

And then he began to move.

Their heavy breathing filled the bathroom, but Ian tried to keep as quiet as possible. He started off a little slowly, wanting to make this last even though he knew they didn’t have much time. 

“Hurry up, Gallagher.” Mickey moaned out the ‘r’ on his last name and Ian smirked at hearing the effects he had on him. 

He wished that he could hear him more. 

Hear him be louder. 

He dug his fingers into Mickey’s soft skin and began to pick up the pace. 

“That fast enough for you, Milkovich,” Ian grunted out as Mickey began to press himself back against Ian to meet his thrusts. 

Ian knew they were probably pushing their luck. Mickey’s dad had already walked in on them moments after fucking here last time. But he just couldn’t help himself. He  _ liked _ having sex with Mickey.

Liked it more every time they did it.

It might have only happened twice - now  _ three _ \- times. But he liked the way Mickey felt moving with him. He liked how he warmed his whole body up. It might just be the sex that caused the glowing heat to settle in his chest and move outward through his body, but Ian really believed it was Mickey. He’d never felt like this with anyone else. It was like he was wrapped in a warm wool blanket on a cold winter night. 

He liked Mickey’s little gasping sounds. The ones he tried to hide either because he didn’t want Ian to know how much he was enjoying it or because he didn’t want to be too loud. Ian just wished he’d let go.

Maybe one day he’d get to see it.

He moved his hand from Mickey’s shoulder and buried it in his soft black hair. He tightened his hold on it a little more and was rewarded with a ‘hmm’ sound that caused Ian’s lips to widen. 

He made a mental note that Mickey liked his hair getting tugged on. He filed that away in the building folder he had in his brain of Things To Know About Mickey.

He really wanted to move forward and began kissing every inch of skin, but he knew that he would probably lash out if he did. 

He was lucky to have gotten away with the neck kissing earlier.

But once again, Ian didn’t mind. (Or so he told himself. He’d never thought kissing was a big deal until he couldn’t do it anymore.) 

As long as Mickey was with him, Ian knew he just had to be patient and he’d come around. 

_ Right?  _

That’s how these things worked.

_ Fuck, this was good. _

Ian could feel his own pleasure mounting like each little puff of breath escaping his body. He moved his hand from Mickey’s hip to travel up and under his shirt. He wished that Mickey had bothered to take his shirt off. He wanted to feel their skin pressed together. 

If they had more time, he’d yank Mickey’s shirt off and press himself to his back. He wanted to hear if his heart was pounding just as loudly as his was.

“You close?” Mickey gasped out.

Ian debated lying, just to make the moment last a little longer, but instead he said, “fuck, yeah. You?”

Mickey moved his head a little and Ian took that as confirmation. He moved to wrap his hand around Mickey’s cock, but he bated it away and began to stroke himself. Ian’s pace lapsed causing Mickey to reach back and grab Ian’s ass to get him moving again. 

He spread Mickey’s legs a bit wider with his knees and bent him over a little more. Mickey began to mutter a soft series of ‘fucks.’ Ian realized that he was the one who was breathing that heavily in the bathroom.

He was so close.

Was Mickey this close?

“Fuck, I’m -  _ fuck _ ,” Ian grunted.

He began to feel the tightening sensation in his belly and he leaned forward so his naked chest was against Mickey’s back. Burying his head in his neck, he came with a gasp of relief. 

He heard Mickey’s own breathy sigh and then it was immediately cut off. Ian somehow knew he was biting his lip to keep the noise in check.

They stayed in that position for a moment until Mickey moved his elbow back and gently nudged Ian to alert him to get off. 

Reluctantly, he moved off of him and began to gather his clothes. Quickly dressing, he glanced at himself in the mirror and saw the sparkly sheen in his eyes. His skin was a smooth red, like it got when he exercised. His hairline was a little sweaty and he tried to shake it out to make it not as obvious so as to not alert Mandy and Iggy to what they were doing. 

Glancing over at Mickey, he watched as he lit a cigarette and took a hit before passing it to him. Until the cigarette was finished, they passed it back and forth in silence. Ian was trying not to openly stare at Mickey and he was staring at the tiles of the bathroom.

He knew they should get back out there. It had been at least 20 minutes and Mandy nor Iggy were stupid enough to not realize they’d just up and disappeared. But Ian wasn’t in a rush to go back into the living room and by the slowness of Mickey’s actions, he’d say he wasn’t either.

“So what were you suspended for?” Ian asked.

They were leaving the bathroom. The smell of sex wafting into Mickey’s bedroom. Ian stood awkwardly in the middle of the room as Mickey moved around him, grabbing rolling papers and a bag of pot. Should he go back to Mandy? It would probably be a good--

“Nothing interesting,” Mickey said distractedly.

Ian moved to sit on the couch that he’d been thrown into just weeks earlier. (It felt like a lifetime ago.) 

“Haven’t heard of anyone getting stabbed, so I guess it’s not as fun as shit you’ve gotten suspended for previously,” Ian tried to joke. He was absentmindedly playing with the end of his t-shirt. 

Mickey ignored him as he began to get to work on rolling a joint.

Shifting uncomfortably on the couch, Ian searched his brain for any other conversation topics he could bring up with him. He had this endless need to know everything possible about Mickey Milkovich. Even if Mickey didn’t seem to want to know anything about him.

But Mickey had asked him about the Kash N Grab a few days earlier. Maybe that was him trying to get to know Ian? Or maybe that was Ian overthinking this arrangement? 

(Again.)

Was he thinking this was more than it was?

(Probably.) 

He reminded himself that Mickey wouldn’t still be sitting with him if he didn’t want anything to do with him. But then it was also his house. Maybe he wasn’t picking up on the clues? Should he leave? Did Mickey want him to leave?

Fuck.

“You doing anything this weekend?” Ian asked lamely.

Mickey snorted, “doing a run with my dad.”

“Cool.”

“Not really.”

“You going with Mandy to--”

“What’s with the 20 questions, Firecrotch?” Mickey barked.

Ian frowned. He didn’t think that he was being pushy or asking too much. He just wanted Mickey to talk to him. That wasn’t an unreasonable request. Before Ian could start to speak, he sighed and almost softened.

“Sorry.” 

“It’s...fine.” Mickey was quiet for a second and then added, “Not really used to someone asking so many fucking questions.”

Ian looked up at him and saw that he was still rolling the joint, but if he looked close enough, he noticed that he wasn’t really doing much other than rolling the weed back and forth in the paper. It looked more like a nervous tick than him actually rolling the pot up to make a joint.

“S’okay.”

Mickey glanced up at him and then quickly back down at the rolling paper in his hands. Ian began to start talking about his day at school when Mandy pushed open the door and glared at him.

“What’s taking you so long? Thought Mickey killed you,” she whined.

Ian laughed forcefully and quickly lied, “Mickey was telling me about his crazy suspension story.”

“Oh yeah? Well, stopping fucking around with my brother and come help me figure out what to wear tonight.”

Ian stood up reluctantly and glanced over at Mickey who was still rolling the joint. He wanted to stay in the room with him, but he was over here for Mandy. Besides, Mickey hardly spared him a look when she came in. Maybe he really did want him to leave? 

Instead, he said, “bye, Mick.”

And in response, he got a middle finger.

As he left Mickey’s room and headed into Mandy’s, he ran a hand anxiously through his hair, worried that she was going to sense what they had just done. Instead, she was too preoccupied with what to wear to the party tonight. 

She had three outfits laid out on the bed and put her hands on her hips as they got into her room. Looking at him with wide eyes, she gestured down to the clothes.

“We could’ve at least smoked before you made me do this,” he protested.

“It won’t take long. Now, do you think Greg would like me in a red or black shirt?”

“Whose Greg?”

“From Spanish II. Tall guy with curly blonde hair.”

“Nope.”

“You’ve seen him around.”

“Okay, whatever. Maybe the red? It’s different from what you usually wear.”

She frowned, “I like the black one.”

“Then wear the black.”

“But--”

“Don’t you want him to like you wearing something  _ you _ like?”

“Well--”

“And don’t you want to feel comfortable?”

“Yes, but--”

“And shouldn’t you--”

“Okay, okay. I’ll wear the black.”

Ian grinned and moved to leave the room to go back to Mickey’s. Even if they couldn’t really be alone, he could at least use the pretense of wanting to smoke to head back in there.

“Hey, is Mickey always so--”

“Yes,” Mandy said as she began to change.

Ian averted his eyes and bit his lip as he contemplated what to ask next. He felt a little bad using his friend to get more information about his...Mickey, but, well, he wanted to know how he could get him to feel more comfortable or open up a bit more to him. What questions should he ask? What should he stay away from? What were his likes and dislikes? He’d seen slivers of Mickey being softer, calmer. But they were just  _ slivers _ . 

“I mean, I never really get if he’s, like pissed at me or wants me around.”

Mandy snorted, “you and everyone else.” She paused to drag the low cut shirt over her head. “Mickey’s like - he’s like one of those Shakespeare plays you know. You have no idea what’s actually going on and you need a cliff notes version to understand it. No one understands Mickey. He’s hard to get, but like he’s not what people think.” 

Ian stared down at the floor as he took that in. Half avoiding watching Mandy change and half mulling over her words. He pocketed her analogy to think about later. Probably while he’s trying to fall asleep to Lip’s snores.

“How do I look?” she asked twirling around.

He smiled softly at her and nodded, “like if I was Greg, I’d want to fuck you.”

Mandy threw a pillow at him causing him to break into peels of laughter. 

* * *

A lightness settled in Ian’s chest in the ensuing days since hooking up with Mickey  _ the third time _ . 

The  _ third _ . 

Now  _ fourth _ .

This time they were in the back of the freezer at the Kash N Grab. 

He buttoned up his pants and put on his t-shirt. He couldn’t help but watch as Mickey pulled his pants up. He wished they had a bed or even a couch to fuck on. It was better than the freezer at his work. For a moment, he allowed himself to imagine them in a large king-size bed. 

_ One day. _

“You got time for a smoke?” Mickey asked as he finished dressing himself.

Ian couldn’t help but grin and nod. 

He was still in awe that Mickey Milkovich wanted to spend time with him. Wanted to hook up with him. It wasn’t flowers and chocolates and whatever else rom-coms tried to sell about true love. But it was real and it was Ian’s. 

Ian’s and Mickey’s alone to savor. 

No one could take that away from them.

Every time they had hooked up, Ian discovered a little something more about what Mickey liked. But he was like a dying man in the desert who thirsted for water. He wanted more. He wanted to know everything.

Not just the sex stuff, but the stuff he wasn’t really ready to put out into the world yet. Ian had tried to ask him questions and the last time they hooked up, he was probably a little too pushy. After talking to Mandy, he got some of the insight he wanted. Basically, he had to learn how to understand the language of Mickey Milkovich. He had to work on reading him. All of those little things he’d pocketed away began to come to light every time he noticed Mickey repeating an action.

When he itched his eyebrow, he was generally nervous.

When he said something mean, he was just deflecting.

When he didn’t answer a question, that didn’t mean he didn’t want to answer it. It just meant that he wasn’t  _ sure _ if he was  _ ready _ to answer it.

That was something he never really got with Kash. He’d figure that most guys just kinda blew each other off when they didn’t want to deal with shit. Ian didn’t take it too personally, until he began to ask Kash questions and he’d avoid answering him. 

Mickey, though, had to get used to people actually caring about what he thought or did. While Kash didn’t want to answer Ian’s questions about what they were or about Linda, Mickey genuinely wasn’t sure how to answer them. 

Neither of Mickey or him really knew what they were doing.

But as Ian watched Mickey get out a cigarette and light it up, he knew that even if he took 10 years to come around, he’d be here waiting for him.

Ian could wait.

He was going to wait.

Willing to wait.

“Lip’s been going down to the University. He met some professor who caught him cheating for other students on the SATs,” Ian said, picking up on the topic of conversation they’d started when Mickey came into the store for a booty call.

(Ian couldn’t stop smiling whenever he thought about them being each other’s booty calls now. Four times, Ian considered that Official Booty Call Territory.)

“I asked how you were, not your brother,” Mickey said, passing him the cigarette.

Ian shrugged, “I know, but I’m just kinda annoyed about it.”

“About your brother going to a University to visit?” Mickey asked, confused.

“About having the chance at a future and not doing anything about it,” Ian revealed.

“You don’t think you have a chance at a future?”

“I do, but it’s not as easy. I want to go into the army.” 

“I figured. You’re in ROTC, right?”

Ian grinned and passed him the cigarette. 

“What do you want your future to look like?” Ian asked watching Mickey’s fingers move forward to take the cigarette. When he looked up, he saw Mickey looking at the door of the freezer.

“Dunno,” and then he turned to look Ian right in the eye.

Ian felt his world shift a little and suddenly it was just him and Mickey. He smiled softly as he stared into those cerulean eyes that were now becoming a prominent feature in his dreams. Mickey looked to be on the edges of returning it before he seemed to remember himself and turned away. Ian watched him for a minute and then stood up.

“I should get back to work.” 

Mickey rolled his eyes and passed him the cigarette before grabbing his coat and scarf.

“Such a soft motherfucker,” Mickey said.

Ian grinned and put out the remains of the cigarette in an old coke can. They left the freezer and went back into the store. Ian unlocked the door and slid behind the counter. Mickey followed him, but stopped in the candy aisle and then came back over. He had a Milky Way in his hand. Grinning at Ian, he slapped down a dollar and some change.

“Same time tomorrow, Firecrotch?” 

He didn’t turn round as he left, but Ian knew that he was smiling.

Just like he was.


	4. Animals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian likes hanging out with Mickey. Like, really likes hanging out with him. Set before 1X09.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I hope everyone is safe and healthy and excited for season 11. I know I am. Although, also nervous. Very nervous. Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read, comment, kudo, and bookmark this little story. We're nearing the end. Just one more chapter to go and it's all planned out, so it should be up per usual on Friday. Just in time before season 11! 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy the chapter!

Blue eyes, perpetual scowl, smooth skin.

_ His scent. _

Images of Mickey kept floating through his mind. 

_ What was he doing? _

_ Who was he with? _

_ Was he thinking about me? _

Mandy was talking about one of her friends stealing her lipstick and now wanting to borrow her eyeliner - or maybe it was mascara - but Ian wasn’t really paying attention. He hadn’t seen Mickey for the last few days and he was weirdly missing him. (Maybe it wasn’t really  _ that _ weird when he thought about him as much as he had been lately - or like, in general.)

He hadn’t thought that Mickey had impacted his life that much until he went a couple of days without him and a dull throb began in his lower stomach. He recognized it as longing. He didn’t know what to do with it other than ignore it.

(If he was being honest with himself, he’d admit that it really wasn’t as weird as he was trying to make it out to be. He  _ liked  _ Mickey Milkovich. He shouldn’t feel strange about missing the guy when he didn’t stop by the Kash N Grab or Ian didn’t run into him at Mickey’s house. And yet...never before had he felt that deep seeded  _ yearning _ . It began to occur the moment Mickey left his eyesight. He’d never experienced anything quite like it, not with anyone romantic at least. Maybe  _ that’s _ what he found weird.)

“...are you listening?”

“Hm?” 

Mandy gave him a knowing look and rolled her eyes a little, “You’re not listening, are you?”

“No, sorry,” Ian admitted sheepishly.

Annoyance twisted her features and her eyes narrowed as if to say,  _ what the fuck, Ian? _ Crossing her arms, she said, “is this about your mystery guy?”

Ian began to feel hot. He ran his hand through his hair nervously to smooth it down as a means of distraction. Mandy was still staring at him though and she was slowing down her strides to look at him fully in the face. Reluctantly, he stopped walking and turned to her.

“He’s not  _ my _ mystery guy.”

“You won’t tell me who he is.”

“I told you, he’s on the downlow. Like me,” Ian said quietly.

She gave him a long look and then sighed dropping her crossed arms. “I won’t tell anyone.”

Ian stared at her and she huffed in response. 

“Whatever. I’m just saying that friends talk about this stuff. You told me all about Kash and he’s married.”

“He - his family doesn’t really...they’re kinda - not all of them are homophobic. His dad is crazy,” he muttered almost apologetically.

It was weird talking to Mandy about her own family, but he had no intention of sharing Mickey’s secret. 

Not only would Mickey flip a shit if anyone in his family knew - that’s the assumption that Ian made at least just from his time at the Milkovich residence - but he’d kill Ian for being the one to say anything. 

Besides, it wasn’t his place. 

It was Mickey’s problem. Ian was just - well, he had other shit to contend with and if Mickey didn’t want anyone to know, then Ian knew he needed to respect that.

Ian had the luxury of having siblings and even two parents who would understand. Frank and Monica were some of the most selfish people alive, but Ian knew that neither of them gave a shit who he banged. But then again, they’d never really given a shit what he did. He could disappear for months on end and no one would come looking. 

Mickey didn’t have that with Terry. 

Terry was probably the most homophobic person on the block and as much as Ian tried to understand, he also wasn’t the one who had to deal with it directly. He understood Mickey’s fear in the large context of worrying about if he could get killed in his neighborhood for being gay, but Mickey had to deal with that fear in his own house. 

Ian couldn’t fathom it. 

Sometimes he didn’t think he was truly able to comprehend it.

On occasion, in the dark of night when exhaustion eluded him and Lip was snoring extra loud and Carl was muttering in his sleep, Ian imagined what it would be like to run away with Mickey. Somewhere where no one knew them. No one cared who they were. No one looked at them strangely for being together. Somewhere that was safe and where they could lov--

But Ian knew that would never happen. 

He knew Mickey would never go for that.

And Ian would miss his family too much to actually leave them.

Even if sometimes he wondered if they’d even notice if he disappeared.

“Crazy, huh? That sounds shitty,” Mandy mused.

“Yeah,” Ian agreed, giving her a sidelong look before he began to start walking again.

“But you like him?”

Ian couldn’t help but smile at the question.

_ Yeah, I really fucking like him.  _

“He’s okay.”

Mandy grinned suddenly, “what did Kash say when you broke up with him?”

Ian winced. The guilt he’d tried to suppress since he and Kash had stopped seeing each other and Mickey came into the picture came to the surface. He had yet to officially break it off with Kash.

Sure, they weren’t seeing each other romantically anymore and they weren’t physical, but Kash thought that was mainly due to Linda. Ian hadn’t told him that it was because he didn’t want to be with him anymore. A part of him was too afraid to actually say anything to him for fear of losing his job. Another part of him just wanted to see if it would disappear on its own. And a smaller part of him just wanted to see how long he could get away with not saying anything until Kash inevitably knocked up Linda and wanted to resume their relationship.

“I didn’t actually break up with him,” Ian revealed apologetically, “but I will.”

Mandy smirked, “so you’re cheating on him?”

“I mean,  _ technically _ I just haven’t gotten the chance to officially break up with him.”

“So you’re cheating.”

“Everything with Linda just got really fucked up. I was going to say something, but it’s not like we’re actually dating anymore anyway.”

“It’s okay, Ian. I also knew that you were kinda a player.”

Ian snorted and shoved her a little. She laughed and shoved him back. They fell into silence and Ian contemplated letting the conversation die completely or bringing it back up. 

It was the first time he’d had the chance to talk about Mickey with anyone. Like really talk. And while he couldn’t exactly be entirely truthful, he did feel like he was walking on clouds finally getting the chance to gush. He wanted to keep it going for a bit longer.

“I do like him. He’s not what I expected.”

Mandy grinned at him, “and he’s our age?”

“A few years older.”

“But not Kash old.”

“No, he’s not Kash old. He’s - he’s  _ perfect _ .”

Mandy made a grossed out face at him and he laughed in response. Maybe one day he’d tell her the truth. One day they could talk about Mickey freely between them. Maybe Mickey would end up telling Mandy that he was gay. Maybe they could even be open about who they were. One day…

* * *

Winter in Chicago was cold as fuck, but these days Ian wasn’t really bothered by the chilly, blustery winds. He wasn’t bothered by stray bits of snow falling into his shoes because he had to walk on the sidewalks and they aren’t shoveled properly. He didn’t care about waiting for the L when all of the heat lamps were out or there were too many people under them and he was left to freeze. He didn’t even care that his hat was stolen and his ears are always bright red and cold because he can’t get another one.

He was hooking up  _ consistently  _ with Mickey Milkovich. Nothing could really bother him at this point. 

Even freezing ears and wet socks.

He’d gotten a C- on a Geometry test the other day and all he could do was smile cause Mickey was supposed to be meeting him at the Kash N Grab after school. 

It was nice - this feeling of constant warmth; consistent trust.

While he knew logically that it wouldn’t last - nothing this good ever really happened to him - he wanted to bask in it as long as possible.

Ian would dare to say that they’d even gotten into some fucked up routine. 

Mickey knew what days he was working. Not just  _ knew  _ them, but had  _ memorized  _ them. Generally, he’d stop in at least once during his shift. And while the sex had gotten a little more aggressive and Mickey refused to face him - most of the time - he didn’t pull away when Ian covered Mikey’s smaller hands with his larger ones. __

When Ian was over at the Milkovich residence, Ian would sneak off to Mickey’s room. Sometimes Mandy would disappear for hours in her room to talk to one of her girlfriends and it would leave Ian and Mickey to entertain each other. Most of the time his brothers and dad were gone, which meant they didn’t have to worry about anyone except Mandy catching them. And they had both learned that - like Terry - Mandy was pretty oblivious. Even though Ian still wanted to kiss Mickey on the lips, he counted his lucky stars when Mickey began to ask him the same amount of questions as Ian asked him.

When Ian asked about a new drawing he saw in his room or what he’d done over the weekend, Mickey would answer and even inquire about Ian’s day or if he’d finally finished whatever the fuck book he’d been rambling about the week before.

It was nice knowing someone was actually invested in his life. Someone outside of his family and Mandy.

There was exactly one time when Mickey came over to the Gallagher house when Ian knew everyone was out. He’d snuck Mickey upstairs and shoved a chair under the door knob just in case. Still, Mickey had been jumpy and it had taken a serious strategy of well-placed open mouth kisses along his neck and a drawn out blow job - Mickey finally let him do that to him, but Ian had not received one  _ yet _ \- to get him in the mood. 

They didn’t have specific days or times or anything, but they did make it a habit to see each other at least every few days. 

The thing was, like Ian wanting to know everything that made Mickey tick, he also wanted to see him every day.

Not even always physically either.

The sex was fantastic; better than he could’ve imagined. Ian really loved having someone he could seek out when he was feeling horny. But it was also nice to just  _ hang out with Mickey _ .

Like they were  _ actually _ friends.

Or close to it.

Ian liked it - the possibilities Mickey presented him with.

Sometimes if he saw Mickey over at the Milkovich house and wasn’t able to sneak off with him, that was okay too. He liked sitting and talking to Mickey or watching a movie just as much as he enjoyed fucking him. 

Ian had always thought that Mickey’s life was a nonstop action thriller with drug deals left and right and guns hidden in every nook-and-cranny in the house. But Mickey wasn’t anything like that. 

Sure, he did drug deals and the Milkovichs had an impressive stash of guns, semi-automatic rifles, and even an oozie that no one but Terry was allowed to touch. 

But Mickey also liked to draw. He liked classic rock. He could take apart and put back together a gun faster than Ian, which was saying something since he was in ROTC. 

Mickey also knew how to cook and not just cereal and mac n cheese. Once, when Mandy invited him over, the three of them smoked a joint and Mickey made them burritos. 

Not just frozen burritos either, but _actual_ _fucking burritos_. 

Ian still didn’t know the story there.

What he did know was that Mickey had  _ layers. _

Which Ian had picked up on pretty quickly, but it was one thing to know it and another to actually see it. 

The  _ Mickey Milkovich South Side Thug _ Ian had in his head - at first - didn’t line up with  _ Mickey Milkovich Gay South Sider _ until Ian began to take apart those layers to discover the softness he had underneath the years of built up walls he used to protect himself.

Ian once likened Mickey to a Snickers bar and the more he got to know him, the more he liked his gooey middle.

The softness that he hid from the rest of the world.

The way his eyes twinkled in amusement. 

How his lips curved up when Ian said a particularly funny joke.

The slight blush that colored his cheeks when Ian did something particularly titillating.

The little eye roll or bite of his lower lip that signaled to Ian that he was pleased, but didn’t want to show it.

The softness Ian was the only one to see.

With the right amount of pushing and pulling - something Ian had learned from cataloguing, memorizing, and storing away all of the Mickey-isms to fully understand  _ the language of Mickey Milkovich _ \- he was able to finally see everything that made Mickey who he was.

He liked to think that he was the only one that Mickey let see his true self. Because Ian would have to say that Mickey was the only one  _ he _ let see certain sides of himself.

He had Lip.

And Lip knew everything - or almost everything - about Ian. But Ian also didn’t want to bother his family with everyday things. When something was disrupting his carefully managed life, he knew on the larger scale of what Fiona or Lip had to deal with, it was miniscule.

So it was easier to confide in Mickey, who he figured out finally that he was only pretending not to give a shit. He could tell that Mickey in fact actually gave a shit about what was going on with Ian. It was just one of those things he had to learn about Mickey instead of taking for face value the way he had in the beginning of their tryst. 

Once when Steve was hanging around way too fucking much and Lip was just  _ amused _ by the entire thing instead of annoyed as he should be, Ian had told Mickey about it. And while Mickey had huffed and made little comments about not being a therapist and just wanting to fuck, he’d also asked him if he wanted him to take care of Steve. Scare him away from Fiona. And the next time he saw him, Mickey had pointedly asked about Steve.

He was soft.

And Ian really liked seeing the dichotomy of Mickey. 

There was the one time when Ian ran into Mickey at the grocery store when Fiona sent him to pick up some last minute noodles for dinner. They had walked lazily around the grocery store for much longer than it should’ve been for either of them to pick up whatever they had come in for. Sure, Mickey had stolen a bunch of shit and glared at everyone when they looked at him funny, but he also grinned at Ian when they parted ways and had even given him some of the stash he’d taken.

Ian had felt like he was floating the entire way back home.

Even when Fiona demanded to know what had taken him so long to pick up fucking noodles.

It was the type of normal that Ian had always wanted but never thought he’d have. 

But as perfect as he felt that it was, he knew it wasn’t all rainbows and cupcakes or whatever. 

As much as he noticed all the little amazing things about Mickey - like how he always shared whatever food he had with Ian and he stood up to anyone who talked shit about his family - he noticed other things too. 

Like how Mickey tensed up when Ian got too close to him without warning. Or when Ian’s lips came anywhere near his face. He also noticed that when they were in the throes of sex, Mickey didn’t want him touching his dick. And he wasn’t really sure about that one cause he had given him hand jobs - and three blowjobs - but he figured that had something to do with Mickey not 100 percent feeling comfortable with his own sexuality. There was the talking stuff too. Sometimes Mickey would sit and listen to him talk and other times he’d complain when Ian opened up about his day.

But Ian was patient.

He was kind.

He wanted to wait for Mickey to come around.

But most importantly, he was learning when to push him and when to let him be in those moments. Most of the time he figured it was just easier - and safer - to not push Mickey at all. He figured  _ eventually _ he’d come around. 

_ Eventually _ , he’d realize Ian wasn’t going anywhere. 

_ Eventually _ , he’d realize Ian just wanted to be with him and there was nothing to fear. 

Ian would protect him. Maybe he couldn’t stand up to Mickey’s dad, but if they were together, anything was possible. 

_ Right? _

* * *

Saturday night was supposed to be fucking cold, but Ian didn’t mention that when Mickey told him to meet him at some abandoned buildings near their neighborhood. It was a little weird that Mickey wanted to meet at some abandoned buildings 30 minutes away on public transportation, but Ian didn’t mind too much. He’d bundled up in a few layers of sweatshirts and his winter coat, stole a hat from Lip, and then headed out to the bus stop. 

Ian didn’t know why Mickey had told him to meet him at Damen Silos, but it was far enough away from their lives that it would be like going to another place. A place where no one knew them and they could just be  _ Ian and Mickey _ .

Damen Silos was about a half hour trip on the bus and after dark, you had to sneak in. Ian wished that Mickey had wanted to travel down there together, but he was probably off doing drug deals or whatever else he did.

Ian still wasn’t sure.

Even if he’d asked him a few times, Mickey gave him the bare minimum when answering questions like ‘how was your day?’ and ‘what did you do?’

He got off the bus at 35th and Damen Street and prepared to walk the short jaunt over to the abandoned warehouse. He’d gone there once with Lip a few years ago in the middle of one of the hottest days of the year.

Ian remembered being in awe of all of the graffiti around the buildings.

When he got off the bus, his eyes widened in surprise when he saw Mickey leaning against the bus stop, a bag slung over his shoulder, and a smirk on his lips.

“Figured I’d wait for your late ass, Firecrotch,” Mickey said. Flicking away the cigarette he’d been smoking, he straightened up.

Ian smirked, “we could’ve taken the bus together.”

“I had some shit to take care of.” He nodded his head to signal for Ian to follow him and they both set off toward the old abandoned factories.

Damen Silos was located right on the Chicago River, which meant that it was going to be even colder down there. But Ian didn’t mind, the thought of spending the evening with Mickey warmed him to his core. 

He was rapidly growing used to the feeling.

The buildings used to be grain silos and while it was technically illegal to hang out in there, no one actually abided by those rules.

Especially a Gallagher and a Milkovich.

The walk to the silos was relatively quiet. Ian could tell that Mickey was lost in his own thoughts. He was still trying to figure out how far he could get him to open up. Mickey might be softening like a chocolate bar left out in the sun, but that didn’t mean he was going to start waxing poetry to Ian.

(And honestly, Ian was okay with that because then that wouldn’t be  _ Mickey _ .)

“You ever been here?” Mickey asked, breaking the silence.

Ian was surprised. He was the one who usually broke their silences. “Once, Lip and I came here during the summer. You?”

“Sometimes Iggy, Colin, or some of my cousins come up here to get high.”

“Kinda a long walk to come to get high.”

Mickey shrugged, “worth it when you don’t have to listen to Terry tell you that you’re a waste of space.”

Ian’s heart hurt at the image of Terry telling Mickey he was worthless. He had always hated Terry Milkovich, but hearing the way he treated Mandy and Mickey...he wasn’t afraid to say that he had many daydreams of murdering Terry in various ways.

“I think that’s one of the things I like about Frank. He’s never around.”

“That ever get weird?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, like, does it ever get weird to realize your dad would rather sleep on the streets than come home and live in your house?”

Ian smiled wistfully, “he’s not living on the streets. He’s over at Sheila Jackson’s.”

Mickey shrugged and continued to lead him through the abandoned buildings.

“Sometimes I wish my dad would disappear and never come back.”

Ian wasn’t sure what to say to that. He did completely relate to that sentiment, though. He often wished Frank would just go away. Especially after the last time he’d ‘talked’ to him, which was basically getting headbutted because of Karen Jackson’s dad. 

Most of the time, he tried to stay away from Frank. He’d always had the vague notion that he didn’t care much for him anyway. He pampered Debbie and Carl when he wanted something and he almost respected Lip and Fiona because of how capable and smart they were, but Ian… Once again, if he disappeared, he doubted Frank would give a shit.

“Sometimes I wish my mom was the one that stayed. Frank can be….” Ian wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence. He had the luxury of not having to deal with Frank being homophobic. But he was also selfish, dangerous, destructive, and worst of all (at least in Ian’s opinion), greedy. He was always willing to take and take until there was nothing left. 

Mickey looked at him in surprise. 

“She left when I was like 12 or 13, right after Liam was born.”

Ian looked down as they walked to a more secluded area to sit down. A lot of the area was covered in snow, but Mickey was able to find a section of the abandoned silos that were dry and out of the cold wind. It wasn’t until they were settled and Mickey had handed him a beer and lit a cigarette that Ian began to talk.

“She wasn’t around much before that though,” Ian said, almost reluctant that he’d brought it up.

“My mom wasn’t around much either,” Mickey admitted.

Ian glanced toward him and they shared a smile. The cold from outside wasn’t as uncomfortable as it had been.

“So? What happened?”

“Nothing really. I mean, nothing out of the ordinary. She got fed up with Frank or maybe she was tired of pushing out babies. She was sick too; made her do crazy shit. She’d just had Liam and she wanted...I don’t know, to be free, I guess? She kept trying to borrow money from me before she left. Asked if I could lend her cash to go ‘grocery shopping,’” Ian put quotations around ‘grocery shopping.’ Hitting his cigarette, he passed it back to Mickey.

“That’s it?”

“Yeah.”

Mickey frowned, “did you give her any?”

Ian looked away sheepishly. He had given her money, more to get her to go away. It was only $10 from the paper route he’d been doing at the time, but it was still money he’d earned and just another thing Monica took away from him.

“Parents are pretty fucked up.”

“Tell me about it,” Ian chuckled, taking a sip of his beer.

Mickey’s lips tilted up and he moved his beer as if to cheers Ian. They fell into silence for a few minutes and Ian began to rack his brain - like he usually did - when he wanted to ask Mickey something.

Maybe if they were actual boyfriends, the first thing Ian would tell him would be about his classes. It would be nice to tell someone who wasn’t Lip or Fiona about how he was doing in school. He might not be as smart as Lip, but he was driven.

Plus, he liked English. 

Sometimes he told Mickey about his day when something interesting actually occurred like someone got in a fight or some poor fucker got a boner in the middle of class. But nothing of interest had happened today. 

And yet, he kept circling back to wanting to tell Mickey about his day. He just wasn’t sure if Mickey was in a mood to listen or if he’d complain about it.

They weren’t dating - at least outside of Ian’s daydreams - and he wasn’t sure if Mickey wanted to know that stuff about him. Sometimes he thought he did and other times he didn’t think he gave a shit. He couldn’t tell what Mickey was thinking right now. 

He reminded himself that just because he wanted to know what Mickey did all day didn’t mean that  _ he _ wanted to know what  _ Ian _ did.

But the thing was the more they were hanging out and doing  _ what it was they were doing  _ Ian had compiled a list of questions he wanted to ask Mickey. 

Someday.

He knew he needed to spread them out instead of bombarding him. It was difficult to do until he fully understood _ the language of Mickey Milkovich _ . 

The best thing about their setup was that Ian finally had someone who completely belonged to him. He didn’t have to share Mickey with anyone else. Not his siblings, not a wife, not friends, or other lovers. 

No one else. 

It was _ Ian and Mickey _ .

Even if Mickey wouldn’t kiss him or fuck him face to face - not after the first time at least - that was okay because he was entirely Ian’s.

It was a nice feeling knowing he didn’t have to share him.

“You hear about Dicky Rodriguez holding up that 7-11?” Ian asked. He’d finally found something that seemed a little more neutral to talk about.

Mickey chuckled in amusement and handed him over the cigarette they were sharing. “Yeah, Iggy told me about it. He was suppose to help him out, but Dicky cut him out of the profit so Iggy said fuck it.”

“What does Iggy do all day?” Ian blurted out.

He didn’t know much about Iggy or Mickey and Mandy’s other brothers, but it seemed like a safe enough question since his sort’ve-hopefully-someday-boyfriend didn’t have to open himself up too much. Instead, Ian could learn about him through his family. It seemed like a safe bet.

“What do  _ you _ do all day?” Mickey returned sipping his beer.

Ian looked at him in surprise and then ducked his head as he felt the beginnings of a blush come over his cheeks. 

“School. Work. I’m pretty boring.”

“I don’t think so,” Mickey muttered.

Ian was definitely blushing now. If he was looking into this situation more than he probably should be, he would say that Mickey almost gave him a compliment. It made his heart beat faster and his stomach squirm in excitement. 

“There’s the ROTC stuff too. I’m actually a Cadet Lieutenant Colonel,” Ian added when he felt comfortable that his voice wasn’t going to give him away. He smiled hearing the words leave his mouth. It had been weeks since he’d gotten the promotion, but it was still something he was so proud to show off. 

“What’s that?” Mickey asked, burping.

“It’s an ROTC thing.”

“Yeah, I figured that out. But what does it mean?”

“That I rank below a colonel and above a major.”

“Is that good or bad?” Mickey asked, confused.

Ian laughed sheepishly and held out his hand for the cigarette Mickey was letting burn down to the filter.

“It means that I worked hard and I’m a good leader.”

“Well, why didn’t you just say that?” Mickey asked, handing him over the cigarette. He put down his beer and began to sift through his bag. Pulling out a few bags of chips, some hostess treats, and a bag of Hershey’s chocolate fun-size bars, he threw them between them on the cement block they were using as a makeshift table.

“Why do you like doing all that ROTC crap?” Mickey asked. He was opening one of the bags of chips and grabbing a handful to stuff into his mouth.

Ian was temporarily surprised as he watched Mickey bring out all of the snacks. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say that this was maybe, possibly,  _ hopefully-- _

He cut that thought off before it could fully form.

“Why do you like drug dealing?” Ian countered.

Mickey smirked, “dunno. Guess it’s just something I’ve always done.”

“ROTC is the one thing that lets me be me. Fiona and Lip...they have their things. They’re hardworking and resourceful and smart. I’m just - it’s hard being the middle kid, I guess.”

“Try being the youngest,” Mickey said almost bitterly.

“Mandy’s the youngest.”

“The youngest boy. Gotta always prove you’re right. Make your way.”

Ian smiled slightly and grabbed a handful of chips and a few Hershey’s bars. “I can relate to that.”

Mickey grinned at him and sipped on his beer. They lapsed into another round of silence, but it was different. Every time he looked toward Mickey, he’d find him studying him as if he were trying to figure him out.

“How many brothers do you have?” Ian heard himself ask.

Mickey crushed the cigarette they had been smoking - it had gotten down to the filter - took a long sip from his beer and then produced a joint from his coat pocket.

“Are we talking actual siblings or half too?”

Mickey lit the joint, took a hit, then passed it to Ian. Ian carefully took the joint from him, making sure to touch his fingers as he clasped it.

“How many siblings do you know about?” Ian amended.

Mickey shrugged, “Iggy, Colin, and Mandy are my actual siblings, but then we have half-siblings too. A shit ton of cousins. Mostly I hang out with Joey and Jamie. Iggy too when he’s not being a dipshit.”

“Are you guys close?”

Mickey frowned as if he’d never even considered whether or not they were close. What was it like growing up in the Milkovich family? Ian knew they were nothing like his own family, but he also knew that while his parents had up and ditched them, Terry was around a lot more than Frank ever was.

Whereas Frank and Monica were selfish, greedy, and entitled.

Terry was just fucking scary.

And Ian didn’t know anything about Mickey’s mom besides that she was dead and she started popping out kids when she was like 12 or 13 according to Mandy.

“Why you asking this shit? Don’t you want to tell me about ROTC or your grades? What about the latest faggoty ass book you’re reading?” Mickey asked.

A few weeks ago Ian would’ve been offended by Mickey’s question. He would’ve worried that Mickey didn’t like him talking about his own shit, but he realized that  _ this _ was Mickey’s way of telling him - in his own Mickey way - that he  _ liked  _ hearing about what Ian was up to.

Ian grinned and passed the joint back to him. “Got an A on my English test. It was an essay one. The teacher said I had real knowledge looking into the minds of the characters. In Macbeth at least.”

“Macbeth?”

“It’s a Shakespear--”

“I know what Macbeth is.”

Ian tried to keep the surprised look off his face, but Mickey could plainly see it cause he glared and took an extra long time smoking the joint before passing it back. Ian grabbed a few more Hershey’s chocolates and another handful of chips while he waited. He swallowed it down with his cold beer.

“What else?” Mickey asked when he didn’t continue talking.

“Oh! Well, Geometry is kicking my ass. Chemistry I’ve been--”

“You need help?”

Mickey had ducked his head down to grab another handful of chips, but Ian swore he saw his cheeks grow red when he asked the question. Ian couldn’t contain the grin he felt coming to his lips at the idea of making Mickey feel shy.

“Maybe,” Ian said.

He was waiting for Mickey to lift his head up and meet his eyes. When Mickey continued to study the not very interesting cement block with their snacks on it, Ian began to talk or really ramble. 

“Chemistry’s been okay. I’m glad that we only have to take a year of it. Mandy is in that class though. That’s the one with our creepy teacher. He always gets hard-ons for the teen girls. Fucking creepy. I like history though. It’s the history of the US, so it’s not too hard, but I hate the teacher. She’s totally fucking on something. Talks a mile a minute. Says it’s the caffeine she’s always guzzling down, but I think it’s more than that. I’m looking forward to next year. There’s a wood shop class I wanna take. Plus I can--”

“Why do you even like school?” Mickey asked cutting him off.

He’d finally lifted his head back up to look at him any residual discomfort he may have been feeling had faded away.

Ian shrugged, “I don’t know if I like high school exactly. It’s more like I like what it can do for me. I like the learning aspects, but...our school is such a shit hole.”

“Why not drop out? Get your GED?”

“Fiona would kick my ass.”

Mickey snorted, “what’s that like? Having her play mom?”

Ian paused at the question. He’d never really considered that question before. He’d never really thought of Fiona as his mom. Sure, she did everything a mother was supposed to do - for Debs, Carl, and Liam - but he and Lip were old enough to remember a time when they did have parents. Well, sort’ve had parents. Maybe Fiona had played mom for longer than he actually realized.

“She - she does the best she can,” Ian stuttered out.

Mickey took a sip of his beer and held his hand out for the joint. Ian hastily took a hit and handed it back.

“You ever think she’ll leave?” Mickey asked. His eyes were downcast as he asked, his gaze on the joint.

Ian laughed, “no. She’s fucking dedicated. She might mess up sometimes, but she’s - I don’t know - she’s the rock of the family. Without her, a lot of shit would be fucked. I don’t know how she does it sometimes. I mean...she’s always kinda done it even when Monica and Frank were around.”

“Must be nice to have a sibling look out for you,” Mickey said somewhat bitterly.

Ian was taken aback by his tone. He’d never thought about what it would be like without Fiona before. Mickey though had never had anyone looking out for him. He highly doubted Colin or Iggy would remember to pay the electric on time or the water bill. 

A pang of guilt and sorrow hit him squarely in his chest and he felt the need to wrap himself around Mickey to protect him from the world.

“You know--”

“Want the rest of the joint?” Mickey asked, waving the roach at him.

Ian shook his head slowly and scooted a bit closer to him. Mickey was looking down as he stamped out the joint. When he looked up, his eyes widened at the close proximity. Ian expected him to take a step back, but he was surprised when he saw those cerulean eyes that he dreamt about flicker down to his lips. He inched in causing Ian to move closer. His eyes had lowered to Mickey’s soft-looking, pink lips. He was a breath away from him, waiting, hoping, that Mickey wouldn’t move away.

_ Just move closer. _

_ This was it. _

But just as he thought Mickey was going to lean in, he pulled back and gave him a lecherous grin.

“You gonna get on me, Gallagher? Think you can take the cold out here?”

Despondency flowed through him at seeing Mickey pull away, but the words out of his mouth buoyed him back to life. He forced out a grin and grabbed Mickey’s arms to push him back against one of the graffitied walls. He felt Mickey’s hot breath from laughter on his face before he turned away and they began to undress themselves.

It wasn’t ideal - the weather being so cold and the position Mickey insisted they fuck in - but Ian would take what he could get with him.

It was enough.

It had to be enough.

He’d rather have some of Mickey than none of him.

One day, he’d finally get to kiss him.

Taste those pouty, pink lips. 

For now, he’d just have to accept what he could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So fun fact Damen Silos is a real place and is (I'm 99.9% sure) where they filmed the scene in season 7 when Mickey picks Ian up for them to go to Mexico. I was looking for abandoned buildings in Chicago (ff writing is so weird) and the picture of Damen Silos looks 100% exactly like where they meet. Plus it just looks like a cool place to visit. Check out the pics if you can! 
> 
> Thanks again to everyone for reading. Leave a comment if you'd like. Last chapter will be up next Friday.


	5. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian likes being where Mickey is. 
> 
> Set up to 1X09.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter! I'm sad about it, it was so much fun to dive into Ian's head, especially season 1 Ian when he was all dopey smiles and cute little crush-y eyes. Anyway, thanks so much to everyone who commented, read, kudoed, and bookmarked this little fic. 
> 
> I hope you guys enjoy it! 
> 
> Please comment if you'd like.

Ian wasn’t sure how he got so lucky. 

Well, he did. 

It was all thanks to Mandy. But still, he was flabbergasted that he was going to see a movie with  _ Mickey _ . 

Like a  _ real date _ . 

(Not that Ian was thinking of it like a date. It was three people going to the theater.  _ That was it _ .)

Granted, Mandy was coming too and they were going to sneak in cause none of them could afford the astronomical prices, but it was really the thought that counted. 

Ian had stopped at CVS earlier in the day with Mandy to stock up on movie snacks, which were all housed in her large purse she used when she was stealing shit. Mickey brought a few beers for them to drink. They were basically all set. 

Initially, it was just supposed to be Mandy and Ian, but Mickey came home at the right time and Ian extended the invitation. (He may have done a little convincing on his part, but eventually, Mickey gave in.) 

Mandy might have been glaring at him a little bit while he asked, but didn’t protest when Mickey shrugged and said ‘sure.’ 

They were standing off to the side in the entryway of the theater waiting on Mandy to come back from conning their way into the movie. Mandy had taken off to find the kid she was flirting with to get them tickets, which meant that it was just Ian and Mickey.

For those few minutes, Ian let himself imagine that it was just the two of them. That they were seeing the movie together like a - like a  _ real date.  _

Anyone passing them would see them together and think, well, they’d think it was just the two of them hanging out and going to see a movie together.

A bubble of contentment began to blossom in his chest at the realization. Everytime he caught someone looking their way, it grew a little bigger.

And when he caught Mickey looking at him out of the corner of his eye, he had to take a deep breath to steady his nerves.

“What’s this movie about anyway?” Mickey asked. 

They were watching the line at the theater ebb and flow as people bought their tickets and headed inside. At least, Ian was pretending to. He kept peeking at Mickey to see what he was doing. (Mickey actually did seem to be watching the line, for the most part.) 

“I don’t know. Mandy said it’s about Romans or Gods or some shit. Said there were a bunch of famous actors in it.”

“So it’s not some dumb chick flick?”

“No. It’s action.”

Mickey made a hmph sound. His fingers were worrying the hem of his coat. Ian somehow knew he wanted a cigarette.

“Think we have enough time for a smoke?”

Mickey shrugged and glanced toward the transparent doors to find Mandy.

“Probably. Let’s go.”

They headed back outside into the freezing cold right as a group of college students came in. One of them took one look at Ian, purposely bumped into him, and sneered.

“Watch where you’re going, firecrotch _.” _

Ian blanched in surprise and opened his mouth to reply. Before he could get any words out, Mickey jumped in. 

Ian would like to say to defend his honor, but that was  _ not  _ what was happening.

_ Right? _

Mickey was just...being a friend.

“ _ You _ fucking watch it, faggot,” Mickey snarled.

The guy who’d snapped at Ian glared and stood up a little taller. He had a good few inches on Mickey, but the way he was cracking his knuckles and glaring at the fucker seemed to have its desired effect. He looked over at his friends for assistance, but they were all staring at Mickey’s FUCK U-UP tattoos.

It was then that Mandy came back over. Getting within two feet of them, she could automatically tell what was going on. And like all Milkovichs, she was ready to fight.

“You got a problem assholes?” she snarled. She came to stand beside Mickey and glared at the college guys.

“Just tell your friend to watch where he’s going,” one of the guys said. Ian could hear the wobble of fear in his voice.

“He’s the one that bumped into me. How about you get the fuck out of here,” Ian snapped. He wasn’t as intimidating as Mickey nor Mandy, but he did have the prowess and the skills he’d learned in ROTC to back them up if a fight did break out. If he wanted to, he could take someone out with a single hit.

He could feel Mickey’s eyes on him and he felt a rush of courage despite the fact these guys were much bigger. But they were South Side and weren’t going to back down without a fight. Especially when these guys looked like fucking pussies.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” the one who’d started the entire thing said. 

He glared at Ian, but he could see right through him. There was hesitation clear as day in his eyes, which signaled that they weren’t going to do anything volatile. Ian would bet money on it that they’d just walk away and mutter about not wanting to ‘make a scene.’ 

“Back off, fucker. He didn’t do anything. Your friend’s the one being a dick.”

The guys exchanged a look and Ian could see them weighing their options. They might have more people in their group, but they didn’t have two Milkovichs who knew how to fight. 

He heard one of them grumble ‘let’s go’ and the others began to follow. They watched them go until they walked up to the ticketbooth to check their tickets.

“The fuck was that?” Mandy snapped, turning to them.

“Some guys were trying to mess with Gallagher,” Mickey said with a shrug.

“One of them was being an asshole,” Ian added.

He looked downtrodden at the pack of cigarettes Mickey had taken out of his pocket and he knew they didn’t have enough time for a cigarette now.

“Come on, we gotta go,” Mandy said, waving toward the inside of the theater.

Ian and Mickey exchanged a look and then followed her. She walked toward the ticketbooth, flirted with the guy at the stand, and then they were waved through. They walked to theater 12 and entered the dark room. There were a few people in there, but not many since the trailers weren’t even starting yet. Mandy grabbed three seats in the last row and they put their feet up to settle in for the movie. 

Ian counted his lucky stars that he ended up between Mandy and Mickey. Mickey’s puffy coated arm rested against his own and his fingers itched to reach down to his hand and grab it. Instead, he asked Mandy for one of the beers. She passed them each a beer and then the giant family size bag of M&Ms she’d bought. 

She gave them to Ian with a mumbled, “you’re in the middle.”

“What’s this movie called anyway?” Mickey asked, cracking his beer.

“Immortals.”

Mickey snorted, “what kinda gay ass name is that?”

Ian popped his own beer and watched as the lights darkened a bit more signaling the show was going to begin soon. A few more people filtered in as the commercials began and then they were engulfed in loud noises and pitch black as the movie started.

Mickey reached over to dig into the M&Ms on Ian’s lap. When he shot him a look, Mickey gave him a salacious grin and munched on the tiny chocolate treats. Ian felt himself grow hot at the look. Even in the darkness of the theater, the reflection of the movie illuminated the upward curl of his lips and the lascivious glint in his eye. 

He wished that Mandy would go to the bathroom or something so they could make out - although, Mickey’s no kissing rule kinda got in the way of that. 

He loved Mandy, but this was the perfect place to fool around. No one would see - it was pitch black - and they were in the way back so no one would notice them. Mickey must’ve been thinking the same thing cause he moved his hand so his pinky was touching Ian’s.

It was the smallest gesture, but Ian felt his stomach quiver in anticipation. He considered turning toward Mickey to gauge what he was thinking, but instead, he brushed his pinky against Mickey’s. He was rewarded with Mickey moving his to rest on top of Ian’s. 

His heart began to beat loudly in his chest and warm adoration filled his body. From the top of his head to his toes, he felt like he’d stepped into a hot bath. 

He bottled the feeling for those moments he knew he’d need it.

Like when he was doubting Mickey’s intentions. 

Or when he needed a reminder of why this whole thing was worth it.

Mickey’s pinky twitched against his own and Ian couldn’t stop himself from looking at him. He half expected Mickey to be watching the movie, but instead, his eyes were trained right on Ian. When their eyes met, his eyes flickered downward. It was too dark to see where they landed, but if Ian had to guess, he’d say Mickey was staring at his lips.

He licked them self-consciously and something flickered across Mickey’s face. Suddenly, he leaned back in his seat and turned back to the movie. 

But his finger hadn’t moved from where it rested on top of Ian’s and he counted that as something.

He wasn’t sure what that something was, but he filed it away in his mind under ‘something important.’ He’d re-examine later tonight as he fell asleep. 

* * *

Mickey stopped by the Kash N Grab on Friday evening, which wasn’t unusual. Immediately, when he walked through the door, that familiar giddiness sprang to life in Ian’s belly at the sight of Mickey. He half expected him to walk straight toward the back to the entrance of the freezer and wait for Ian to lock up so they could get down to business. Ian even waited for an innuendo to fall from his lips, but nothing came. 

That  _ was _ unusual.

Instead, he lazily walked the aisles until the few customers left the store. Ian wasn’t really sure what to think of Mickey just lounging at the counter and habitually flicking one of the lighters for sale. 

Maybe he was bored?

Maybe he was...Ian really didn’t know. He couldn’t even guess why Mickey would choose to hang around the Kash N Grab with him rather than go out and sell drugs or go to a party or even beat the shit out of people.

(Ian still didn’t really  _ get  _ what Mickey did all day other than sell drugs for Terry.)

If Mickey was going to come into the store, Ian expected him to follow the steps they always did; gesture to the back of the store and head toward it without waiting for Ian to follow. Ian, for his part, would go to the door, lock up, and hurry after him. Then they’d fuck, smoke a cigarette, and Mickey would leave without saying much.

But today that wasn’t how things were playing out.  
And Ian wasn’t sure what to make of it.

Rather than head straight back to the freezer to fuck, Mickey was hanging out in the store as if he were waiting for Ian. 

As if he wanted to hang out with Ian.

Like they were friends.

(Could Ian consider Mickey a friend? He still wasn’t sure about this.)

They hung out every now and again at the Milkovich residence or at the occasional abandoned building. But Mickey had never actively seeked Ian out to only hang out with him. Not without leading up to fucking at least. 

Sometimes Ian wondered if when they hung out before they fucked, Mickey was almost psyching himself up to do it. Like he wasn’t sure how to approach Ian until he got comfortable enough around him.

In any other person, Ian would say he was being shy. But shy and Mickey didn’t really go hand-in-hand. 

Ian tried not to focus on the anticipation that was building with every moment that Mickey stood there with him instead of heading toward the freezer with a lecherous gleam in his eye. 

This wasn’t like when he went over to the Milkovich residence and Mandy was busy on the phone so Ian hung out with Mickey. This wasn’t like when he ran into Mickey on his way home from school or work or even at the store and they were  _ forced _ to be together. This wasn’t like when they went to Damen Silos and they drank beers and smoked before they fucked in the secluded area of the abandoned warehouse. 

Mickey had come to see him at work.

Did this mean something?

Did Mickey want to - want to take this to the next level?

Ian wasn’t sure what that looked like, but he wasn’t going to turn down spending more time with him that’s for fucking sure.

“When are you off?” Mickey asked. He flicked the lighter again, the soft clicking sound filled the mostly silent store.

“11.”

“What you doing after?”

“Going home and going to sleep.”

Mickey scoffed as if he’d never heard such a lame answer. 

Ian almost regretted being honest in an effort to sound more interesting than he was. But with the next words out of Mickey’s mouth, he was happy he laid all of his cards on the table.

“You’re not going to go out? It’s fuckin Saturday, man.”

“Where would I go? It’s 20 degrees below and--”

“Terry took Iggy and Colin down to Gary.”

Ian paused in restocking the cigarettes to glance at Mickey. He saw he was still focused on the lighter he was playing with and was strategically avoiding his eyes. He stuffed the Camel Lights in their designated spot and fully turned around to face Mickey.

“And--”

“If you want or whatever, you can come over. Just for a little while.”

Ian stared at Mickey as if he’d just asked him to a sleepover. He bit his lip as he felt the telltale signs of a nervous giggle escape his lips. Had Mickey just asked him to come over? Was this - was this the  _ more  _ Ian had been hoping for? Was this a sign that Mickey saw him as  _ more _ than just a guy to fuck? 

He half wanted to ask Mickey to repeat what he’d just said. He wasn’t sure if he’d heard him right.  _ Did Mickey really invite him over? _

_ Holy shit. _

“I’m tired of fucking in cold places. Want to do it in a bed,” Mickey hurriedly said before Ian could say anything.

Ian opened his mouth to respond, then closed it. He wasn’t sure how he should feel about this. On the one hand, he was excited that he was invited to the Milkovich house  _ by Mickey.  _ He was exuberant that Mickey had stepped out of his comfort zone and hung out with him longer than it took him to get into bed.

But, the louder, more pessimistic part of him had to wonder if perhaps he was overthinking this.

Mickey had just said that he was tired of fucking in cold places. Maybe this was just Mickey inviting him over to take advantage of fucking in a bed rather than in a freezer or in the shadows of an abandoned building. It  _ was  _ cold outside. He’d just admitted to that. This could be for convenience sake for all he knew.

He was definitely overthinking this... _ right? _

“So it’s just a - we’re just fucking,” Ian clarified.

Mickey gave him a funny look and tossed the lighter on the counter so it slid across the surface and onto the floor. Ian bent to pick it up and when he raised back up, he saw that Mickey was thumbing at the area over his lip.

The logical part of Ian clued in to the fact that Mickey was anxious. (He’d categorized that Mickey gesture long ago under nervous or uncomfortable.) 

But another part of him, the part that focused on every little thing Mickey did, couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he was looking for something that wasn’t really there. He was searching for any little sign that Mickey liked him as much as he liked Mickey. He’d latch onto anything. 

Maybe he was rationalizing his behavior to convince himself that Mickey wanted more. When in reality, it could just be Mickey wanted to take advantage of his house being empty and wanted to get laid.

Mickey was his booty call. 

His friend with benefits. 

His fuck buddy.

And as much as he wanted to deny that he had any real feelings for Mickey Milkovich, he knew that was a fucking lie.

He probably had feelings for him longer than...well, he knew he felt differently about him than he did with Kash. He thought he’d loved Kash. He thought he trusted Kash. But the more time that separated Ian and Kash’s relationship from Mickey and Ian’s, he didn’t think he understood what love was before Mickey. 

When Linda told them they couldn’t see each other, Ian had been sad. Or at least that’s how he looked at it now almost two months later. If Mickey told him that they couldn’t be together anymore, even in the small sense of just fucking, he wasn’t sure how he’d handle it.

He saw Mickey every day.

Not only did they fuck, but they had inside jokes. 

They had gotten into a routine.

Mickey shared food with him.

Ian asked about his day.

He knew the right buttons to push when he wanted to get him hot and bothered.

He’d finally gotten Mickey comfortable enough to relish getting a blow job.

There was something there.

Something real.

Ian wasn’t giving that up. 

“Of course, we’re just fucking Gallagher. Don’t be such a fucking girl. Jesus Christ.”

Ian stuffed the lighter back in its rightful place. He tried to ignore the downtrodden feeling that was settling in his stomach at the fact that Mickey just saw him as  _ another guy to fuck _ . 

Was he overthinking this?

Is that all Mickey thought of him as?

_ Just another guy? _

Ian shook his head to clear the downward spiral he was on the cusp of. 

He  _ knew _ he meant something more to Mickey. 

Mickey wasn’t fucking anyone else. He wasn’t trying to fuck anyone else. Ian could  _ sense  _ that he wasn’t fucking anyone else. It was fucking corny to think, but he trusted that Mickey wasn’t fucking other guys in their neighborhood - or even in Boystown. It was just a feeling he had. He couldn’t explain this conviction that it was just Ian and Mickey. 

There was no one else.

He trusted Ian enough to come to him with this secret he knew could get him killed in his own neighborhood - in his own house. He wouldn’t rely on anyone besides Ian with that knowledge. He reminded himself of that fact. 

Trust meant more when you were brought up around people who continuously tried to fuck you over. Ian wanted to hold on to that assurance Mickey gave him and never let go.

As Ian looked at Mickey fidgeting in front of him and obviously waiting for an answer he was taking way too long to give him, he realized he trusted Mickey just as much as he thought Mickey trusted him.

He might not be at risk of being killed in his house, but Mickey could fuck him over if he wanted. He could tell everyone he was gay. He could sic his brothers on him like Mandy had. And yet, Ian knew he wasn’t going to do that.

They might not be boyfriends, but Ian would definitely look to Mickey for - for anything.

Besides his family, he was the first person he thought of to rely on.

The first person he wanted when shit hit the fan.

He wasn’t sure when they had gotten to that point, but the revelation sat heavily with him. 

“Yeah, sure,” Ian said, ducking his head on the pretense to dust away some non-existence grime on the shelf. He didn’t want Mickey to see the grin on his lips. But when he raised his head and saw Mickey watching him with a tiny smirk, he wondered how good of a job he actually did in hiding his glee at being asked to stop over at the Milkovich household after his shift.

“Bring beer.”

And with that, Mickey stalked out of the Kash N Grab, leaving Ian staring after him. 

* * *

Ian looked over at the condom wrappers that literated Mickey’s bedside table and the lube he’d flung over there at some point before entering him. Mickey’s beside table had a lot of trash on it, but underneath the piles of condom wrappers, receipts, and a Big Gulp container, Ian saw a book buried all the way at the bottom. He also noticed a few pens and colored markers. Somehow, he knew that if he moved away some of the trash or even looked on the floor, he’d find a notebook closeby. 

Mickey had fallen asleep beside him and Ian knew he should probably get up and go. But he wanted to lay here for just a few more minutes.

It was past midnight and he knew Fiona would probably have his ass if he came stumbling in any later than 1am, but the quiet stillness of the Milkovich house was too tempting to turn away.

_ 10 minutes. _

Ian turned onto his side and studied Mickey beside him. 

For exactly 60 seconds, he allowed himself to look at Mickey’s sleeping profile. Lock away the image in front of him and store it next to the bottle of  _ feelings  _ Mickey made him feel.

He imagined this was what he got to fall asleep and wake up to every night and morning. This image was the first one he greeted and said goodnight to every day. 

This moment right here was just a million they had together instead of one in a million. 

He’d never been more comfortable in his own skin - in his own life - than he was right here laying in bed with Mickey.

Mickey was laying on his back and his mouth was open the tiniest bit. His eyelids kept fluttering. He stayed on his side of the bed; not even a toe had crept toward Ian. A part of him wanted to move forward and cuddle closer to him, but he didn’t want to disturb him. (Or upset him with unwanted cuddles.)

Ian wondered what he was dreaming about.

Whether it was good or bad.

Whether it was about him.

Or maybe it was something else entirely - some weird dream that left him feeling disoriented in the morning.

Ian wished he’d get the chance to stay long enough to find out.

His fingers itched to run a finger from his forehead along the curve of his nose and to stop at those pink lips. He wanted to feel those soft lips against his own. But Mickey was still not ready for it.

They may trust one another - something Ian couldn’t deny by this point.

But he knew Mickey still needed to get comfortable enough to let him in.

Let him cross that line he’d drawn between them.

The last barrier. 

Would it help if Ian told him that he trusted him?

Verbally, not just showing him.

But maybe Mickey already knew that.

Maybe he could already tell how Ian felt.

Sometimes, when Ian was moving inside of him. When they were on the cusp of falling over the edge, he wanted to tell Mickey how he felt about him.

Every little detail, every little thing he did that Ian had grabbed on to and memorized.

He’d played the moment in his head so many times.

He’d imagined Mickey smiling and leaning in to kiss him.

He’d imagined Mickey turning away and calling him a faggot.

But Ian knew no matter what he said or even what he did, Mickey wasn’t ready.

It wasn’t really up to him. 

It was on Mickey. 

He was the one who needed to understand that it was okay what they did. There were places that they could be safe. That they could be together and life would be okay.  _ They’d  _ be okay.

Ian just wished he knew how to tell him.

He tried to show him, but he didn’t think Mickey got it.

Reaching a finger out, Ian hovered the tip of it above Mickey’s cheek. He ached to reach forward and caress the soft pale skin, something he knew he wouldn’t let him do if they were both awake.

Reluctantly dropping his hand, Ian rolled out of bed and began to collect his clothing. He dressed quickly and quietly. Turning back to Mickey, he saw that he’d shifted positions onto his side and was reaching out across the warm area Ian had left behind.

Swiftly, without thinking too much about what he was doing, Ian leaned down and pressed his lips to the U in UP on Mickey’s knuckles. Mickey’s eyelids fluttered and the tiniest hint of a smile appeared there.

Ian stared at him for a moment longer and then quickly left before he gave in to the desire to kiss Mickey. He hurriedly left the Milkovich house and made his way home. His head was swimming with the image of Mickey asleep beside him and the future they could have together. 

* * *

If he was ever asked, Ian would pretend not to know that he was headed straight to Mickey’s the moment Debs said ‘Monica.’ But the truth was that the moment he stepped over the threshold of the Gallagher house, he knew where he was going. It may not have been conscious, but he knew the only place he wanted to be when he realized his mother had come back into their lives was with Mickey. 

Wherever Mickey was, that’s where he needed to be.

Maybe years down the road if Mickey were to ever ask him why he’d come to his house - and he did one night when they were laying under the stars and talking about how fucked up their families were - the moment his wayward mother returned, he’d tell him the truth. 

Because he wanted to.

There was no hidden meaning in it.

It was a simple answer.

He  _ wanted _ to be with Mickey  _ right now. _

More than he’d ever wanted anything before in his life.

When those words left Debs’ mouth, Ian knew where he was supposed to be. 

Where he needed to be. 

The immediate need to run clawed its way through him and he found himself in the cold Chicago air before he knew what he was doing. The dull sound of his feet hitting the slick sidewalk didn’t even phase him as he headed toward the dilapidated house and nearly slipped outside of it. He’d barely even registered his conversation with Mickey other than the fact that he’d meet him in 20 minutes. 

The idea of staying with his siblings while they entrenched themselves in the mother who had abandoned them made him feel sick. He just needed to get away.

It was too much to handle.

And he needed someone who would ground him. 

He needed to be somewhere safe.

A place where he didn’t have to think about how fucked up his life was. 

Once he heard that home was the place where you missed it when you left.

But Ian had always found his home with the people around him.

When he was little, it had been his siblings. He’d seek out Fiona and Lip when Frank was being extra obnoxious or Monica forgot him at a gas station so she could go score some crack. As he grew up, he realized that home was so much more than he even realized.

Home was comfort and love and warmth.

It could be a moment in time or a person.

He found that with Mickey.

And he needed that familiarity - that fondness - for a few minutes to forget about all the other shit.

He knew what was going to happen now that Monica was back. It was going to start like it always did. She just wanted to weasel her way into their lives. She would do little acts of kindness. Right when they trusted her - that’s when she’d flip a switch.

It was too much.

The thought of going through all that again...

_ Monica. Monica. Monica _

_ She’s over at Sheila’s.  _

_ Fuck. _

He’d gotten to work a few minutes - miraculously - late. Kash didn’t say anything as they switched out shifts. Ever since Linda had found out about them, he barely even looked at Ian. Initially, it had frustrated him, but the more deep-rooted his adoration for Mickey became, the more he forgot about his married boss.

He didn’t notice that Ian looked panicked or there were dried tear streaks on his face from where a few stray drops had escaped. Instead, Kash avoided his gaze, counted the money, and told him to be careful locking up tonight. There had been a string of robberies in the area.

It was probably the Milkovichs’ doing if anything and maybe in another time or place they would’ve made a joke about it. But Ian was too focused on when Mickey was getting here. And Kash was trying to keep his promise to Linda.

Once Kash had left the store, Ian contemplated locking the door and sitting in the back of the store waiting for Mickey to show up.

He checked his watch for the third time in the last five minutes to see if the promised 20 minutes were any closer.

He had 8 minutes left until Mickey had said he’d meet him.

“Fuck,” Ian muttered beginning to pace the little area behind the cash register. He began to mindlessly rearrange things. From Cigarillo packs that were sticking out haphazardly to stray lighters that were jammed in the wrong place, he began to meticulously pick apart everything to put it back in its rightful place. 

He needed something to occupy his time.

And it was easier than sitting and staring at the door, which he had been doing moments before.

As he diligently worked, he thought back to Kash and how much had changed within the last few weeks. 

Would he have gone to Kash if Monica had come back before?

_ No. _

If he’d come to Kash with this issue, Ian somehow knew he’d tell him it was no big deal. That it was just his mother. And then he’d entice him with sex to take his mind off of it. 

But the thing was, Ian somehow knew he’d never go running to Kash at all. Even if they were still together.

So why was he running to Mickey as if he was going to fix all of his issues?

Ian paused in his pathological straightening.

_ Why was he running to Mickey? _

What was Mickey really going to offer him except a fantastic fuck? Mickey wasn’t the emotional kind. He wasn’t going to hug Ian or kiss him till he felt better. 

_ But I can trust him. _

He might not know what Mickey can offer him in the way of comfort, but he did know that he didn’t necessarily care about that right now. He wanted someone he could rely on, that would know the right thing to do, even when he didn’t. 

The bell above the door dinged and Mickey came strolling in. 

A few weeks ago, if Mickey had come in with the look he had on now - an expression of pure nonchalance - Ian would’ve assumed he didn’t care. But the way he was nibbling on his bottom lip, how he was thumbing at his nose, and the movement of his eyes darting everywhere, Ian knew he was anything but relaxed.

Ian let out a breath and his shoulders relaxed a tadbit.

“Lock the door,” Ian said nodding to the entryway.

Mickey did as he was asked and then walked over to the counter where Ian was walking around to head to the freezer.

“So what’s with the impromptu booty call, Gallagher?” Mickey asked.

Ian could almost hear the forced snide tone he was taking on. He glanced over his shoulder to catch him studying him. His blue eyes were burning right into his face and Ian could almost see how he was trying to figure out what was going on in his head.

It was the same look he got when he was helping Ian with his Geometry.

“My mom’s back,” he blurted out.

Mickey let out a low whistle and began to follow him back toward the freezer.

“Damn.”

“Yeah.”

There was a moment of silence and Ian wondered if Mickey was going to push him into having a conversation or talk about how he felt about Monica coming back. Something he expected Kash might do. But instead, Mickey placed a hand on the small of Ian’s back and pushed him toward the freezer. Ian hadn’t even realized he’d stopped walking.

“Why’d she come back?” Mickey asked. 

Ian noted that even though he’d started walking, Mickey hadn’t dropped his hand from his back. He leaned a little into it feeling his warmth. He closed his eyes for a moment to memorize the pressure of Mickey’s small fingers pressing into his t-shirt.

“Dunno,” Ian muttered.

Mickey’s hand fisted and lightly tugged on Ian’s shirt. Ian glanced over at Mickey to find him studying at him. He opened his mouth once, twice, then shook his head a little. A small smile came to his lips and he began to tug off Ian’s shirt. 

For a moment, he thought that Mickey was going to ask him something about his mom or offer some words of comfort. He thought maybe Mickey would want to talk to him about what was going on.

But as he watched Mickey take in his naked chest and his eyes slide down to the button on his jeans, Ian realized he didn’t want any of that.

He just wanted to be with him. 

He reached forward and tugged him closer. The feel of Mickey’s clothes scratching against his skin wasn’t as calming as feeling the press of his skin, but it was something. It was more than he had seconds before. 

The remaining dredges of stress slithered away from his body and all the ‘what if’ and ‘maybe’ thoughts drifted away. Dipping his hand into Mickey’s jeans, he smiled when he saw his eye’s drop closed and his mouth part. Ian leaned his head against Mickey’s shoulder and breathed him in. 

This was what he’d been looking for.

Mickey was it.

He was his home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for reading! I hope you guys enjoyed the end. 
> 
> As always, here's an update for any future fics you might be interested in reading. If you like post season 10 (it won't be following season 11) and want to read more one shots in the Never Tear Us Apart series those will be coming throughout this entire month. I have three one shots in that series coming soon. I haven't started on writing them yet, so I don't want to give a definite date.
> 
> Also on an unrelated note, I signed up for the gift giving challenge and that fic will be out soon as well. 
> 
> Lastly, I don't have any long fics coming out soon. But once all these one-shots are done, I'll have a better scope on future long fics. And that's about it! Thanks again for reading! Two more days till the premier! Can't wait!


End file.
